Pamela Isley: A Poisonous Pursuit
by GronHatchat
Summary: This is Poison Ivy's story as told through Batman and Robin, though with additional insights that were not presented in film: just how many people did truly die at her hands, how did many of the events revolving around her come to be, and just how much power and control did she truly have? Caution: extremely dark circumstances, there are scenes of highly sexual nature. Be careful.
1. Contemplation

Cold, and it smelled. Foul and unwanted was that smell. Was it rotting? The smell of decay? Of course it was, it had to be. Why else would it be so _nauseating, _and familiar? Outpulse of tissue, and something else…chemicals, maybe.

_Our original sponsor had no stomach for military applications, he cut the funding for our work…_

Of course, chemical odors were nothing new. Nothing unprecedented. There had to be some sort of foulness when working with things like this. It came with the job, was natural to the environment…the environment!

_Without your research, I could never have come this far! Join me! The two of us joined, side by side…_

Side by side? Oh, hate you! HATE YOU! HATE YOU SO MUCH! COLD EVERYWHERE BUT YOU WANTED WARMTH AND GAVE ME NONE! HATE! No, no, you only ever cared about that _work_ and where you could stick your tree branch…and this is where it's landed me…l-lan…

_Well…I can respect your opinion…but sadly, I'm not good with rejection. I'm afraid you'll have to die._

And so, with a scream of rage, she had descended, down into Hell? To the confines of Hades itself? It was so _dark_ all around. So cold, and empty. Blackness. She was alone, utterly without self and company. It made her cry. Those were tears falling down her face, and they hurt. Hurt as much as the chemicals that were burning into her skin right now. She lay clumped in a mass of what felt like vines, probably from her desk that he had pushed down upon her. There had been a great clump there. She could feel her eyes open, could feel the world around her, and she knew that this was evidence as to her livingness. She _was_ alive, had conquered the grave, even?

He had spilled those chemicals all over her…and she had felt their sting! And what a sting it had been. Nausea and fire within her, pruning away her organs to the point of pure torment, thorns of vines stabbing into her from the masses of plant-life that had been on that shelf…and she had felt all of it. Had endured pain beyond measure. And where was he? Up there, in the land of the living, _auctioneering _that poor man. Antonio Diego. She remembered that name, for Woodrue had pronounced it so grandly. What had it meant to her? Who had this man been to her but, as Woodrue had stated, _"__a serial murderer serving life_"… And yet, here she was, dead in the darkness, underneath a grave of vines and the fragments of broken shelves, feeling the utmost pity for him? Woodrue…he deserved to die. It was that simple. He had destroyed Diego's life far more than Diego himself had with his "serial murders", and then, to follow it up, the creature had made a move upon her, going as far as to actually try and murder her for refusing him of his lusts…and oh how he had failed.

She lay here, in the darkness, and contemplated her luck. She was not dead, and that was a plus. Officially, however, Woodrue would be logging in an "incidental fatality attributed to accidental elements", as was required by Wayne Enterprises mandate. "_I always stick by the rulebook, it's my one positive characteristic_," he had once joked. Always following the rules, her foot! The creature had bent more than one hundred rules in the last seven years of their work together. They had always been small, subtle, the inconspicuous nature of his doings well hidden beneath the eyes of top men such as Bruce Wayne and Fred Stickley. Subtlety had always been his poison. Poison…

She was swimming in it. Could feel it corroding her pores. FIRE!

Of course, subtlety had always been his strong point. She had not seen it coming, not the storm that had taken her, filled by that lust, disgusting breath and all. She hated it, despised the very idea of it. Hated him…if only she could have run. She would die, in this darkness. Why was she not dead yet?

Something slithered nearby. It passed underneath her arm, where she lay entangled by vines, and the feel of scales was so evident. One of her rattlesnakes. _Oh, what the hell. I'm going to die anyway. Come here, baby… _She gripped a hand around the snake and pulled it towards her. She felt it writhe in her hand, and she felt its head strike. The pain that came with it was intense, but she suddenly welcomed the pain. She felt the venom flowing into her from the snake's bite, and closed her eyes. Even through the pain, it was suddenly all she wanted. _It's snake venom, and it's going to kill me soon. Go on baby, bite harder._ She forced herself to place a hand upon the creature's head, which still had its teeth within her arm, and she yanked it out. The snake struggled but now she had it by the "neck" and she pressed its face against her lips, releasing her grip only slightly Even in the dark, the creature desired to defend itself and it bit right into her lower lip. She closed her eyes, her stomach lurching as the snake venom burned into her.

She reached with her other hand and grabbed the snake tightly, squeezing hard as she twisted. The snake's neck broke with the force she put into it, and she removed it from her lip, tossing its body aside even as vomit went up her throat. Even as her head fell, bile expelled from her throat, she felt an immense feeling of satisfaction. The snake had survived the mass of chemicals and acidic properties. She had killed it. Killing it had been satisfaction. She could not explain as to why this was, but it felt good just to _kill_. In this moment, everything had been taken from her and she was going to die any moment now. _Enjoy it, Pamela…enjoy it so. Be just as venomous as him, love that hate…_

Hating everything seemed to help her relax her breath. She could still feel the snake's boiling venom within her bloodstream, but she welcomed the pain now.

"It-" It was an unconscious act upon herself, and she pursed her lips together, surprised by the sudden act. She had spoken. An eternity it had felt, since he had pushed her into this grave, and the pain of the poisons that he had killed her with had simply muted her. She had thought it for indefinite timing. Now, _sound!_ Actual sound. "Ah…" She forced the single syllable out, as a test. Her voice came out hoarse. Dusty. Dirty. Yes, dirt. She managed a shaking hand against her chin. Her face was dirty. Of course, Mother Earth had left its mark on her. She had been forced down into a grave of nature. "Do…r-re…mi…fa…s-so…l-l-la…ti…do…" Each breath that she took was painful, a fiery strain upon her vocal chords. She could feel a hot liquid corroding her throat. Felt more vomit pushing itself up.

_Remember, Pamela. Stay calm in situations of great distress_, her mother had told her. _The smallest miracles can arise when we're anticipating them. And you sure as heck can't do that if you're hyperventilating._

Alright, Pamela Isley, stat calm, then. And speak. Say a sentence. A short sentence.

"Woodrue…hoh!" Just saying his name was like fire, and she was sure that it was only half related to the convulsions of reactions taking place from her natural hormones mixing with the animal plant toxins. Years of research and it was corroding her from within. The snake victim was tormenting her. She began to cry, her tears themselves hot, as if poured from a half boiling pitcher. There was the strangest sensation of bubbling in her lips, too. She touched them, pondering as to the nature of the bubbling, and wondered frantically whether or not it was finally her time to shut down permanently.

Her skin was getting hot, and she was beginning to sweat, enclosed within a tiny space. The heat was rising fierce now. Was it a sauna? No, not a sauna. Beneath the world, but not _that_ deep! She could feel her rubber boots burnishing against her shin and the heat was building up from within. Weakly, she struggled against them, kicking the boots off, and she heard them fall away, somewhere down into the darkness with a thump some ways below. Just how deep had she sunk down…?

She grabbed at her black stockings and ripped them apart, sighing with relief as what small coolness that came with lack of claustrophobia came with her free legs. She forced off her lab coat, stretching out her arms, but she was still sweating. Her black tanktop clung tightly against her skin, constricting her ribs. She strained against it, clawing at the shirt and ripping its down, piece by piece. There was suddenly so much anger going through her, furious flames of a woman who simply must tear, must destroy.

"AAGHH!" she screamed, tears falling down her face. She _hated_ him! _Hated_ him! He had killed her, and for what!? FOR WHAT!? _Oh, sorry, Jason, I won't whore myself around with you and help you take over the world with a bunch of test subjects who have been forcibly mutilated into weapons but hey! You know what, I'm fair, so go ahead and push me into a shelf of highly deadly toxins, kill me, why don't you? I deserve it, as I'm obviously not the one who's listening! _

Madly did she rip shreds from her shots, ragefully did Pamela Isley rip the bandana that she wore upon her bed, fiercely did she rip her own hair from her head. She was shaking with uncontrollable rage. _Hate and more hate, just focking hate all over, let's share it! Share it loudly and proudly! Go ahead, Woodrue, you sick experiment upon mankind! Go ahead and destroy everything, because you are going to focking get YOURS!_ She was with nature now, in this deep, dark grave. And she _must _simply refrain from being trapped within the confines of humanity. This was her moment to die. Her moment to perish. And she was going to become animalistic in nature.

_If only I had the chance to take him, as he took me, and kill him, as he killed me. It had been romance. And romance it would be, to see him broke…to see him poisoned, as he poisoned me… those toxins belong in HIM! Why should I suffer!? Why should I torment!? _

Suddenly, something moved beneath her. She became still for a moment, closing her eyes and taking in a breath, hoping it was another rattlesnake. She wanted more venom inside of her. She wanted something else to kill as well. Both desires were of the essence of romance, in her new warped perception. Her tears that fell dropped down and tapped lightly against something that was moving around her mid-section. So, then, it _was_ a snake. _Well, come here baby, bite me and then I'll return the favor…_

"Don't s-struggle…I-I can do it…come h-here…" She was forcing words to come now with a newfound strength. Surely death had to be seconds away. It had been delayed for this long. She had to keep defying until the moment she dropped dead. And that smell…that foul odor was getting worse. And the heat! The heat was getting beyond the point of ability to withstand! She grabbed at the entwining around near her belly, but gasped as she realized that she was holding not a scale creature but something softer, and something so much more familiar. In her mind's eye, she could almost see it. "Ivy…"

It was moving on its own accord, surviving down here in the darkness with her. And it was _snuggling_. Snuggling up to its mother, she who had raised it from birth, and caressed it night and day, for the longest time. She loosened her grip and the ivy simply sailed through her fingers as if it _were_ a snake.

"Oh, baby…" she whispered to it, still crying softly. "You wanted to be with your mother in her last moments…why? Do I deserve it?"

Its response was to snake its way onto her left arm, where it began to entwined itself, like a snake upon its favorite branch. She laughed, but only just a little. A shell of a laugh. She could feel the thing gripping tightly against her skin, longing for its "Mother". Mother… Mother Nature. Yes, what a fitting name indeed. Crown yourself, Pamela, crown yourself!

"Oh, baby, I love you," she whispered to the ivy. "Don't be afraid. Take mommy. Take me…please take me…" The request was turning into a desperate plea. "Take from me my humanity, if you will. Help me forget about the cold world of mammals. Yes…yes, mammals…all of them are undeserving animals. That's what _he_ is. Him, and his sexual advances…how dare he try to defile me…how dare he _focking_ touch me the way he did…well, babies, I hope that when he finally passes, the earth _cripples_ his corpse in his focking grave." She closed her eyes in satisfaction as she imagined the broken, lifeless form of Jason Woodrue, squeezed between the thickest vines and squeltered into natural fertilizer. She lay her head back, her long flowing hair, now unbound from the bandana that had held it in proper place, touching a thick clump of vegetation behind her. More ivy came for her, moving on its own accord as if propelled by some sort of powerful, knowledgeable force….Yes! The force of Mother Nature! Her! She who had caressed her babies, she who had given them life and reason!

And not only was the ivy overtaking her arms and legs, but now she could feel it _tugging _ at her hair! Actually tugging, like a small child tugging a mother's arm or attention.

"Yes, baby, I can feel you," she told it tenderly, in the most loving voice. "Why don't you come to me, dear? Go ahead, decorate mommy's hair for her. Make her look _focking gorgeous!_"

Something rushed up before her, and though the blackness obscured the knowledge of its identity from view, she knew it to be a vine. Could smell its natural scent. It was before her face, as if staring into her eyes deeply. She stroked it gently with her hand.

"I love you," she told it passionately, and she meant it. She truly loved it, and in this moment of death, truly needed it. A sound emitted from the plant life before her, and she gasped, her fascination within curiosity getting the better of her. She was as a child to the wonders that were occurring before her. And then the strangest feeling. Coldness was suddenly hitting her face. Something like tiny sprinkles, as if in a light rain. She felt the droplets hit her cheeks and chin, and many of them cascaded against her very lips. And with each drop of whatever water or fluid hit her, there came a soft sizzling noise, and the strangest sensation of bubbling upon her skins. Within her very pores! She closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly as a strong rustling sound emitted, and suddenly she was very much aware of several of the plants rising above her, like judges looking down upon innocence. And such rain! So much rain falling down, that same chemical sprinkling down from every direction, and her pores accepted them without question. She could feel vines entwining her ankles and wrists tightly, and loved their presence as the plants rained down their substance with a form of blessing. A blessing over Mother Nature.

She could feel the sensation rushing through her skin and into her veins. And suddenly, that burning feeling had gone! Instead, it had been replaced with something entirely different. Breath of fresh life exploded in every cell of her body, and the heat that had overtaken her was suddenly not that nasty, slimy negative, but a soft, warm sensation like that of a basking plant. Like sunlight. The sensation reached upward, and she could feel particles rushing through her hair now. Rustling in every strand of hair, to be exact. Changing her. Yes, change! That was what was needed right now. The ultimate change!

"Am I going to live, going to die, who knows?" she said to her babies, basking in the invisible radiance that they brought upon her. _We love you, Mother_, the plants said to her. Even though they could not speak this, of course, she could feel the words within her. Could smell them in the sweet scent of her children's emissions. Could taste them as droplets of chemical burned into her tongue, merging with her cells. They were the new life, the restorative fruit that could never fail her. Plant food to this new plant in its first stages of life.

_A bud. A bud to sprout at any time now._

She could not see herself withstanding the death that was coming to claim her, but that did not matter in this moment. All that mattered in this moment were three things: one, that she obsess over the idea of hating Jason Woodrue. Two, the she acknowledge the Venus-hood that these plants brought upon her, and loved the changes that were to come. And three, most importantly, that she mentally set herself an imaginary goal until the end: to be free of the dark and embrace the light above, and then, when she emerged, to find Jason and make the same advances upon him that he had made upon her…and, with all manner of reflection to his deeds, kill him, as he had killed her. Never to happen, but to trick her mind into thinking it would happen…that was the dream.

"Change me, babies. Woodrue failed to kill Pamela Isley off for good. I say she has no place, either. You, my babies…I want to be like you. Would you accept me?"

She closed her eyes. Yeah, Pamela Isley had to die. And it was simply because Pamela Isley was no good in this world. But something else could grow in her place. An example of nature. The blueprint of natural evolution.

"Ivy. I really like that name…"

And she began to shake….


	2. Realization

How hard was she shaking? Perhaps enough to manifest herself as an earthquake. A quake within the earth. And what was this feeling, deep within her? Something had changed, and it was so evident, so strong. That smell, a musty sort, the sweat of a runner but with something sweet mixed in… it was as vinegar. And her skin…it felt different. Something was washing over her, a sort of living liquid that was, in some way, solid, like a slug running over her arms and her legs and her face.

She could feel the ivy covering her, could feel that strong, hot vapor rising from the vines. And with each second that passed, she enjoyed the feeling immensely. Her body was changing. And not mere change to a useless level, either. _Improving_. She was improving. She did not know how she knew, but it was a natural knowledge that came to her as a matter of fact, no mere speculation. The air itself seemed to give her knowledge.

But, as with much knowledge, there also came pain, and with pain, there came a change of perspective. Must the pain be endured, for the sake of the world? Well, perhaps for the sake of _her_ world.

"I…truly hate them…you know…" she whispered to the plants that caressed against her shoulders. She held them close. "Since as far back as I can remember…"

_They had always laughed at her. Laughed at her because of her obsession, as they called it. "Plant this and flowers that. Get a life, Pamela, seriously." That had been the nice version. But what had they known? Had they not known about the effects that their squandering of resources could be bring about? How their negligence could cause the world to prune away before them? _

_"_I wish I could kill…do you know? I'm in this hole in the world, stinking and rotting away, most likely…and men like Woodrue continue to breath, reaping nature of its wonders and polluting its purpose…" She smiled as she acknowledged that she was speaking more fluidly now, more stable in nature. Living? If this was life, it was very contained. And if this was death…well, she could "live" with it, if it meant being swarmed over with her children. The plants belonged to her. She had defended them all her life, since childhood, even!

_"Hey, w__hat are you doing!?" Yes, she had screamed the demand to know at the gang of useless boys attending her private school. They had gathered around, stamping down upon a patch of fresh lilies, chortling in the desire for their destructive ways. And she had attacked them. Punched at them and scratched them. They had tried to fight her off but her defense for Nature was far superior to their physical retaliations. Nature had to be defended…at all costs. __"I WILL KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME!? KILL YOU!" Of course, ma__king these sorts of threats, especially at such a young age…admittedly, it had been stupid. She had been stupid, and this too was fact. _

_Had been stupid enough to trust Woodrue, anyway that it went…_

_"_So, what are you doing to me, eh?" she asked the plants softly, speaking with as much tenderness as she could, so as not to disturb the sleep that they were attempting to have as they snuggled into her, as they entwined with her. "Tell me, children…I'll keep it between us…or perhaps I won't…if it's a weapon…"

She thought of the possibilities. She could not see above her, but she could feel the wreckage caught within a thick brush of vines and knew that it was only because the blockage swept away light above… but surely she could not be that deep… Foolishly, she raised an ivy wrapped arm up, trying to brush the bottom of the crashed desk and the vines…

And the strangest feeling as well. Something following her arm as she raised it. She paused her reach where it rose, feeling with her other hand to touch that which followed her reach. It was the vines that lay beside her. It shivered at her touch, but somehow, the gesture was in such a way that it suggested a shiver of excitement to be touched by its "goddess". It had followed her reach.

Excitement like an implosion of happiness, equal to that of a small child receiving the greatest of toys. It was so attached to her… she waved her hand left and right, and, with that same joy rising inside of her heart, she felt it in the darkness, swaying with her, mimicking her movements…

"You want to dance with mommy? Is that what you want to do? So, tell me your secrets…why do you follow me?"

It hissed, the smallest noise of elation, a tiny squeak of a child-like plant… and she loved it!

"It's because you are within my grasp, aren't you?"

_"The external pods seem have a hive center, filled with a pollen that sends out a command to plants with the same exterior…in a way, it's __an Alpha…"_

Of course, her research. The pods of the South American Rionan flower. It had growths on the stem that _did_ produce a pheromone, so to speak. An enticement among the buds, those plants connected from the first spring of root… these same pheromones existed within the plants that-

"-were on the table when he did this to me," she whispered. She brought her wrist to her mouth and ran her tongue along her skin. Yes, there it was! She knew the taste, had sampled it for months to test its toxicity and effects on human bodies through oral introduction. The pheromones were non-lethal in small doses, but to mass it…to mass it would have negative effects. At least, on the ten different types of animals that she had tested it on. Three of them, those being a sparrow, a tree frog, and a rattlesnake had produced similar reactions: uncontrollable startle reflex, sporadic movements that induced re-occurent catatonia. But the reactions were individually based. Every animal had endured a psychological trauma, and every one of them had had to be put down. But for science' sake…for science' sake it meant everything. Her biggest desire was, of course, the ultimate question: just how did a human react to the pheromones? Had she not been able to powder the substance, after months of extensive research? Yes…

The pheromones…perhaps they were still safely locked away in the vault, hidden inside of her lab? But then, what was this…this was definitely the taste, and that smell…that was the sweet smell. It was coming _off _of her! That was what caused the plant to sway the way that it did, in its quest to follow its mistress…

"Am I…am _I_ producing that pheromone? But how…?"

She closed her eyes, concentrating all her might upon the interior workings of her new body. There was a gift, hidden deep within, and she simply must find it…

"What else have you done to me?" she whispered. Her skin felt different. She moved her palm up and down her forearm, feeling the texture. There was something distinct about the fell. Hard and yet soft. A sort of…_chloroplast? _"Oh, my… this is…something."

She felt her heels run together as elation swelled up within. Her skin felt like something plant-like. Like stems. A chemical mixture of exterior tissue and chloroplast…chlorophyll!? Yes…it had to be chlorophyll, she knew that feel… she squeezed her legs together. There was a sudden rush of heat within her. It was the kind of heat one experienced when aroused. But this was a different kind of arousal. It came not from any sexual implications, but rather an acknowledgment of self. She was the product of an extreme case of human meta-crisis, and she could explain little… but then, if her skin had been overlayed with a form of chloroplastic shell, and she was producing those pheromones from her pores…what about the pain that she had experienced? What about the bubbling of acidic properties? She had felt it, swelling inside of her, a kind of hot pain that resonated a signal to her nerves. And in particular, a bubbling focus concentrated somewhere around her face.

She lightly tapped her fingers upon her cheeks, feeling the chlorophyll that had made home there. She brushed her index along her forehead, and her nose, then traced it down. Right down to her lips. _Her lips_… She poked her upper lip lightly, and felt something new there. A thick coat of some kind of jelly-like substance. She pressed against her bottom lip and felt for the same. Yes, there it was. It appeared that the substance had been concentrated in patches about her framework, as she felt groupings of the jelly-like substance about her neck and thighs, but none so much concentrated as her lips.

What was this? She pressed into her lips firmly enough to actually scrape a small bit of the protruding substance, and brought it to nose. _Hemolyptic toxin_! She knew that smell anywhere. It was the smell of the poison concealed within the fangs of vipers and pit vipers, rattlesnake's glorified morbidly with this touch of defense. Officially, hemotoxin had the potential to kill off red blood cells, causing organ destruction. The process by which hemotoxin could kill a human being, especially average sized, could be slow compared to more potent poisons, which was fine for snakebite victims as long as the bite wound could be treated fairly quickly. Having worked with various vipers and rattlesnakes in the last seven years of her stationing here in South America by Wayne Enterprises, she had collected countless samples of snake venom, and knew them all by sight and smell. And of course, Woodrue had made a lifestyle of borrowing said samples for his own work in his own lab, apparently in pursuit of the creation of Venom, that formula that had turned Antonio Diego into that monster…

With all of this in mind, she wondered as to how the snake venom could be establishing itself upon her body like this, and how she could withstand it. Why had a hemotoxin coated her lips? She felt mad by the very question. An experiment within a deep cage…just another monster with Jason Woodrue's name upon it…?

She gently stroked the poison glistening upon her lips. _Hemotoxin_… the animal plant toxins…of course! She _had_ succeeded, had she not, to some extent, in her work to not only immunize and correlate natural creation of hemotoxin _within_ her plant specimens, but also re-write their biological processes to _utilize _such a weapon? And these formulas had been used to kill her…

So, then, this was the answer. The riddle given reason. The animal plant toxins had indeed effected her in a severe way! Was it possible that the hemotoxin was actually _being_ produced from her lips? And the other skin spots where she had felt its place? And the chlorophyll… those chemicals had created a bonding process with her very own anatomy, and the change was exactly what was being presented here, in the dark: that she herself had become, to some extent, a plant. A plant woman. And not just any plant woman… a _poisonous_ plant woman?

"You have _got_ to be kidding me…" she laughed. Laughter came so strangely for a situation like this and yet it was all that she could think to do in this moment. The funniest thought ran across her mind. She saw herself rising from the grave, dressed in this raggedy outfit of hers that she had torn strips from with her bare hands, adorned in precious ivy as she emitted pheromones from her body… and she could see Jason Woodrue, standing there, his jaw hanging open and he looked upon her, speechless. And, of course, the man had _desired_ her to the point of where he had had to make moves upon her, force himself upon her, even, without her consent…without her desire…and to _kill_ her, no less, for her refusal… and what joy would it fill her heart with, if, in his memorization, she leaned forward and granted him his wish: a kiss. A fock, even, but involvement of the lips nonetheless. Her lips had been coated with this poison for a reason. Surely they had. And the reason was all too clear: _it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature. _And this was Nature's gift: weapons to use against Woodrue, to bring down the man who had killed her, and corrupted Nature's rise to power for the sake of animalizing man more than he already was! Oh, the thought of Jason's lifeless, poisoned corpse… it made fire tingle within her.

She closed her eyes in satisfaction as she imagined the murderous deed. Could she do it? Could she escape this grave and take his life, as he had taken hers? It was only fitting. A debt to be paid, which must simply be paid, and if not…if not, all would fall apart for her. Because Woodrue's death was all that mattered at the moment. She had the pheromones of the Rionan plant, and lips glistening with hemotoxin, just waiting to administered to the fool unfortunate enough to desire a kiss from her. And Jason Woodrue would surely desire a kiss from the woman he had tried to force himself on to begin with.

"Oh, Jason…your death is coming. So soon, just wait…I am going to be free of this grave, and when I am…when I am, Jason, I want you to understand the concept of "love hurts"… of course, in my case, it's going to do more than hurt. It's going to practically kill you."

She giggled to herself as she thought the evil thought. It was a sexual pleasure all on its own, the thought of stealing the man's life away, watching him die before her, seeing him fall to her feet, where he so rightfully belonged, to be trampled upon by her reborn body as she saw fit! She stroked the ivy around her body with one hand, and her poisonous lips with the other.

"Hello, Jason…I think I've had a change of heart…" she began to rehearse. A rehearsal now, for a murder later.

And somewhere above the grave whose occupant fantasized of the killing to come, Jason Woodrue exclaimed excitedly, somewhere beyond Pamela Isley's lab.

"Ah, so the self-proclaimed "Supreme Ruthlessness" wins the bidding. That's great news. Tophy, let's get down to business. He'll be calling soon and I want to have information for the man, my friend, _information! _My new life is about to begin!"

No, Jason…your life was about to end.


	3. Uprising (Death of a Madman)

The calm before the storm. Of course, she was going to be the thunder, the lightning, and the rain. _I'm coming for you, Jason. Be patient. A flower takes time to bud_. But the anticipation of it all! It was mind gripping, insanifying to a tenth degree. How much wait could there be? She was ready, completely had her heart set on what her goal was, and now, the goal _must_ be reached.

Her lines were rehearsed, her tone ready. She would refuse to acknowledge his presence for a moment, instead acting as if she were waking from a deep nap. The simplicity of the act would be momentous. _Hey, honey, I'm home. I see you're napping. How are you doing? Did you sleep well? _To stay calm was to become something beautiful: a fly trap. Venus as a fly trap.

He would be speechless, that she was sure of it. As to the source, it could be attributed onto two different levels: _fear_ or _arousal_. With luck, it would be a combination of both. She wanted to be desired…but she also wanted the fear of desiring to affect him. Any moment that he could suffer, in any small way…it made her hot.

She would explain, then, as to how this miracle growth has been accomplished. Self-glorification was the key. Narcissism. A study had once showed that the average man liked women who were more dominant in their expression of confidence. It gave them a power and authority that brought on that fear element, and men liked being in danger. Insanity was, perhaps, the most sensual of arts.

She would explain what the chlorophyll had did to her skin, would even throw in a small lie as well: that her blood had been replaced with aloe, the genus of plant most succulent. This alone would drive a psychological force into play. _How could this be? Aloe overtaking in a dominance over blood cells? You've mutated beyond the common biological form! _If he could believe that her blood was truly reborn as aloe, then that would set the fear element within him, because it would affirm that he was looking at no human. And why would she insult herself with such a title anyway? _Human?_ Oh, no, she was far beyond that! Jason, after all, would not be the last human to die. No. She had plans. Had forged these plans long before this wondrous transformation.

Her plan was to give life. And to give life, it would require murder. So…much…murder.

It tingled her, it truly did. Such a thought, such a beautiful idea. She wondered what it would like, when she forced herself upon Woodrue. She wondered how it would taste when she pressed her lips against his, biting down and forcing the hemotoxin down his throat? She wondered what it would sound like, as he began to choke… and shut down …and pass from this life…

_Calm your thoughts now, Ivy. _But she could not! How could she! There was that warmth down there, that feeling of arousal brought on by these ideas. It was more than she could bare, and her hands were trembling at the thought. Just what was she going to do afterwards? How was she going to bring the dream into a reality? She placed a trembling hand over her torn shorts, trying to steady the hormones that were raging below. She could feel the pheromones now, could smell them in the air. Her body truly _was_ releasing them! And she was getting taken by them! A victim, a slave to her own charm! _I won't lay here and lie to myself. I'm in love_.

Her brain was sizzling. She could feel the different chemical combinations taking place inside of her body, and the _idea_ of it alone was more than her heat could take. She had to do it! Soon! Sooner than soon! The anticipation was overwhelming. She had to see if she could truly enjoy Woodrue's murder. If the idea alone brought on such arousal…what would the act do?

"Suppose…I did it now…" she whispered to her children. The plant raised themselves high as she spoke to them, and she could feel their unease. Unease at the fact that they too must wait to bring their mother into ascension.

Vasocongestion… even in the dark, she knew it was there. And she could _feel_ it! It was the excitement phase, as they called it, labeled as such: "…_muscle tension and blood flow increase in and around the sexual organs, heart and respiration increase and blood pressure rises…"_ The lubrication and the swelling were also applicable elements to the situation at hand. Of course, she was a botanist, and where she was studied in the active machinations of the human processes, the more subtle idea, closely hidden beneath her human nature that she _must_ destroy, pondered as to the question of _why_ this experience was tied to the chemical effects. Never had she suffered from paraphilia…surely, never…

_She had walked down the forest path, kicking up dirt onto her bare feet to feel nature so close to her…._

She had always been normal, always been secure in her desire to remain on social, human terms…

_And she had spotted a patch of bluebell, near an old oak…_

The idea of paraphilia alone had always detested her. Why must people reveal their animal nature? They were caretakers to Mother Nature, and must fit their expected roles accordingly…

_Looking both ways down the way to ensure that she was alone among the vegetation and true animals, she lay down beside him, caressing the Bluebell flowers closely…very closely…_

If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she would _never_ allow for herself to fall victim to the strange-

_…placed the petals in her mouth…_

unhealthy-

_-tucked larges masses of the flowers underneath her summer dress-_

sexual-

-_pleasured herself with the corpse of the flower that she picked from the Earth in sacrifice for her indulgence…_

paraphilia. Yes, she had never, ever been into that sort of thing….no….she could never have been…

Tears fell down her face. So, yes, she had been a testament of this despicable animalistic tendencies, but she had did it for her "_goddess"! Nature!_ Mother Nature desired total subjection, and she had given Nature everything. Nine years of college, countless hours dedicated to Environmental Re-establishment Projects… and now, this place, where she had worked for years in loyal, unending attempts to give plants exactly what they needed to fight back against mankind, to retake this plant as was right!

"Ah, it's you!"

Her heart jumped, her eyes snapping open from her thoughts. There was a voice, somewhere above. A voice that she knew all too well. An excited, yet also skittish voice, slightly gritty but more endowed with the energy of a pleased schoolboy. A grin flashed across her face as she heard that voice, above, and she stroked the vines that stood beside her lovingly.

"Now is the time, babies…help me ascend…"

The plants were quick to obey. She felt the masses swirling around her feet, pushing her upwards as they burrowed beneath her. Pushing her up. Her control over the plants, in whatever way that it had come, would give her a literal ascension. She took a breath, enjoying the heat that was running its course through her. _Now is the time…_

"what's that…yes sir, I _am_ so pleased that you won the bidding, your Supreme ruthlessness…" He was right above her. She heard the plants above her hiss, and the hiss was of pain. He had stepped on one of them. Her shaking hand gripped into a fist.

"Bring me up, babies." She stroked her lips fondly. Her poisonous lips.

"We're making the final modifications right now, and you'll have a flawless supersoldier sent out, by overnight mail…"

Of course, this was the last thing that Jason Woodrue said to the man on the other line, before distraction got the better of him. As she rose, her plants carrying her upward, their strength combined a moment of impure pride for their "Mother", she was flying upward. As she moved, the pheromones practically exploded from her body, and the signal was as such that it radiated through a long strand of ivy reaching out of this dark hole. And that chemical reaction caused a mass release of the pheromones from the ivy as well, and when it came, it came in the form of a powerful, gaseous magenta light. The light swelled in her eyes as she breathed in the smell, and she basked in the self-gratifying glory that it brought.

And then, she expelled. She burst through the thick layer of ivy that had covered her grave, and as she broken through, she sighed with delight. To feel her children scraping down her arms like that was something of a defining moment. She breathed the fresh air above her plants brought her right into the lab where her false life had ended. The plant held her at bay, their strength for the Mother not daring to come close to failing her.

Her first truly welcoming sight within the dim carcass of her lab was Woodrue, standing there speechless as he beheld her. She saw him drop to his knees, his crazed white and black tuft of hair glistening in the pink light as the pheromones overwhelmed him. She smiled, closing her eyes and beginning the act. She stretched out her arms and moved her curves ever so seductively, like a swaying branch in a soft wind, and she moaned. It had always been common knowledge that a sensual moan of positive approval to arousment worked wonders for a man's infatuation, raising blood pressure levels by 50%, in some cases.

"D-Dr. Isley?" His voice was weak was he said it, but this acknowledgment only made her happier. His voice suggested disconnection. The first stage of the fear element, that being unsure.

She responded to him not with words, but with an inquiring moan. Like a woman awaking from a deep sleep, asking her lover to repeat himself without words.

"Pamela?" Oh this was too easy. He was eating right into the salad. Now, for the dressing.

"Um-hm," she offered him, and the tone of her voice suggested a desire to be naughty. She opened her eyes, looking down at him. How fitting that he should be there, where he belonged. Below her. But she wanted her sprawled across the floor, a corpse of a man. Even as he knelt she could still see the activity happening within the confines of her slacks. There was no subtlety as to the mindless effect she had over him. The pheromones were everywhere, and he was never going to leave this room again. The floating spores sealed his death warrant.

"You look great…especially for a dead woman!" She raised her eyebrow. Was that supposed to be his attempt at comedy? No… no, not comedy. Assurance. It was all in phycology. Jokes could put one into a state of relaxation, even build up for lack of security. The second stage of fear, then: shielding. Well, enough contemplation. The heat of the plan was overwhelming her and she had to kill soon. The sooner she killed, the sooner she could stimulate herself and end the torment within.

"Hello, Jason," she almost whispered to him, her voice calm and collected. "I think I've had a change of heart…or quite, literally." It was so hard, not to laugh. He looked so dumbstruck. The animal was actually crawling on his knees towards her, staring up at her with such reverence…with such worship… "The animal plant toxins had a rather unique effect on me." She raised one of her vine wrapped arms to show him. What was this new smell? Something was mixing in with the pheromones. Was it coming from him? "They replaced my blood with aloe…" There it was! She saw his eyes widen, only slightly, of course, but still affirmed nonetheless. The third stage and final stage: fear. Absolute fear. But the pheromones kept him coming for her, and she absolutely loved his infatuation. _Come on…just a bit closer…_ The hemotoxin upon her lips was burning, ever so slightly. It was as if it knew he was coming, and that it was going to get to claim a life… "My skin was chlorophyll…"

She reached down and grabbed his face, pulling him upward. The fear had set in finely now. His lips were trembling and he looked scared, and she could hear the smallest guttural sounds emitting from his mouth. It sounded as if he were already choking on the venom. But that was fixing to come. Be patient for a few more seconds, Jason…

"And filled…" Her heart broke, but with happiness. "…my lips…" His lips were so close now. She could smell his foul breath. He had recently drunk something alcoholic in nature, perhaps as a celebratory recognition for his achievement over Antonio Diego… she must simply take that joy away now. She forced her lips against his now, the French of her kiss overwhelming his gums as tongue lashed against tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them slowly as sweet satisfaction overcame her senses. She focused all of her energy now upon the poison that coated her lips, and…yes! She could feel it! A small, hot bubbling. The faintest sizzling noise. Her poison was working its magic. To keep him enticed, she forced herself forward, against his hardness. That drove him beyond his limits. Woodrue's mind and body began to snap in unison, and she could feeling. He was dying in her arms!

She pulled back, aroused at what she had just did. But she had to break it to him now. "…with venom…" She smiled at him, relishing the idea of his reaction. And as she had predicted, his face suddenly shifted. In a moment, all happiness turned to terror, as his eyes widened. The smallest noise emitted from his mouth again, but this time, it sounded as if he were struggling for breath. She had to play with him some more.

"Oh, and Jason, one other thing." She snorted, but silently. "I probably should have mentioned this earlier." He was gagging, choking to death on the hemotixin that she had given him. She saw his tongue stick out for a moment as he opened his mouth wide, letting out a loud, strange sort of belching sound. It had turned green, a powerful shade testament to the toxicity of her kiss. Her heart broke again, and she almost cried with the happiness that took her. She truly was, without a doubt… "I'm…poison." She prodded him with her finger, hard. _Timber_, she thought. Jason Woodrue let out on last noise, something that sounded like balloon's helium released, a sort of soft, gentle scream as poison corroded his throat, and she watched him, her skin on edge, as Jason Woodrue fell backward, hitting the floor hard. Saw his eyes glazed over, and his body stop jerking. Dead. Stone dead.

The heat that rushed into her overwhelmed her to the point of breaking and she had to fan the air around her.

"Wooh…it's a jungle in here." And then she laughed. Laughed with the most amusement that she had ever felt in a situation, laughed at the idea of what she had just done. She placed her shaking hands together, her eyes closed as if she were praying. But in reality, her heart was far from such good things. Indeed, she was shaking with an inner passion that completely altered all perception. She fell to her knees, crawling over to lay beside Woodrue's corpse. Stroked his beard lovingly. "Jason, where did it go wrong, huh?" She noticed that even in death, his erection was still there. She patted it lightly. No one would see. "Oh, you died a big boy, didn't you? Aw…" Her face darkened. "Well, I'm glad. Jason, I'm truly glad that I killed you." She banged a fist down hard upon his chest. "I'm _really_ glad that you choked on _my_ poison!"

She banged a fist down again, sinking it into his face. His glass goggles shattered with the force that she brought down upon them and the thin metal frames bended. She crawled on top of him, a cowboy of a position that would have meant well for living passion, but only one of them was alive. "I'm so…" He placed her hands around the dead man's throat. "…_focking_…" She had strangling a dead body, but the care was little to none. She pressed her fingers hard into his Adam's apple and focused all of her energy into cracking something. Anything. "_glad_ that I killed you!" She picked his head up and banged against the floor, did this several times. Her hair flew around her face wildly as she defiled his body, but she _loved_ the very idea of it. This was appropriate passion, her newly defined sexual desire. Because Woodrue was only going to be the first. She had to kill again. And she had to do it soon!

"Just what until they see what I have in store, Jason?" she whispered to him, kissing him one last time on the lips as she stood up. She placed a foot upon his stomach, her conquered enemy. The veins around his face were swollen, and seemed to be filled with some thick, light green substance. And it was pleasure to the sight. She needed a drink. Something to calm herself down. There was still so much to do. Jason Woodrue was dead but her work here was not done. She would have to leave, and soon. There were supplies she would need to take with her. But where was she going to go? "Mother Nature has to spread… and I'm going to bring Hell to any who oppose her." She cast one last look down at Woodrue. "Isn't that right, Jason? You rejected any care for nature with your experiments, corrupting my work… and I wasn't good with rejection, either. I'm afraid you had to die."


	4. Subjugation of the Beast

The Hillington Brother's Brew was cold, and quite satisfying. A toast, she simply thought, to the end of the world…and the beginning of her Eden, as she dreamed it. It was too clear, what had to be done. She sat at one of her old desks, among the beakers filled with various toxic chemicals and test tubes filled with pheromone and chloroplast. Her old world, and tools to build the new.

"There's so much to do, and all the time in the world," Ivy mused. Ivy. She loved reminding herself of that new name. That new existence. She had crawled from the Earth… a child of Mother Nature. A child of herself. A budding flower so exhilarated by new breath. She glanced over quite casually at the body of Jason Woodrue, still lying where she had left him, to be overtaken soon by the devastation she would bring upon this place. He was so beautiful like this.

AAGH!

She looked up slowly, smiling. Oh, but your creature lives on, doesn't it, Jason? She could hear the beast of a man moving around in the distant Gilgamesh wing, and she wondered what the Frankenstein was intending to do. Surely, if the beast was free, so too was its knowledge and desire to continue to be free. Whatever Jason had been planning to do with this "Bane" was no longer its directive: without Woodrue, what would he do? Had Jason thought that far ahead?

"What do you think?" she asked the viper that was steadily making its way down the table before her. The yellow serpent had somehow broken free of her grave as well, breathing in the fresh air of life above. She gently picked it up in hand, and the moment she did, the creature twisted, writhing and spitting as its head doubled over and its fang sunk deep into her arm. She smiled, closing her eyes as she felt the sudden rush of fresh venom overtake her bloodstream. It no longer pained her. Indeed, the toxins were like fresh oxygen. She could breath the stuff in forever, if she desired… "Now, now, don't be an idiot," she whispered, grabbing the creature by its neck and holding its face close to hers. "Whose the deadlier? The serpent, or the product of the serpent's own poison?" She pressed her lips against the mouth of the struggling viper, forcing a lethal dose of poison through her lips and into the creature. The snake jerked wildly, its tail whipping back and forth frantically, but she maintained her hold, rubbing her leg as a heat rush overcame her. The snake stopped jerking after a few more seconds, and she released it calmly, watching it contentedly as it fell dead with a hard plump upon the tabletop. "Obviously, I'm the more poisonous."

She raised a hand and brought the glass bottle of beer down hard upon the dead snake, glass flying everywhere as the thing shattered. Alcohol poured everywhere but she paid no notice. She stood up from where she sat, gazing around the jungle-like room, a fresh elation rising up inside of her chest. A fury like no other.

"I am poison! Poison incarnate! A deadly toxin upon the Earth, to taint those who have squandered upon it for far too long!" She kicked over the chair she had sat upon, feeling arousal at her sudden fury. There was a fire inside of her, her blood simply boiling. "I am the black moon that brings to this world darkness!" She picked up several pages worth of her notes, giving them a disgusted look as she began to shred them to pieces. "I am the queen of corpses!" She flung the countless shreds of paper into the air like confetti, spinning around happily as it snowed down upon her. She began to move about the lab, doubling around into a small corridor of her workstation. "I am nature's arm!" She smashed her arm across a cabinet top, flinging beakers off of it as it hit the wall and shattered. "Her fury! Her will!" She smashed another couple of beakers on her right, an intense feeling of utter joy at the destruction.

"Hell…I am Mother Nature." Yes, you are… you so very much are indeed. Acknowledge it, Ivy. Acknowledge your divinity! Seek it out! "And the time has come to take back the world most rightfully ours." As she declared it, she picked up two beakers, one filled with a thick, dark violet colored toxin derived from a South American Phero-rat, while the other was alight with a kindred flame. "Because it's not nice-" She began to pour the toxin at her feet. "- to fool with Mother Nature!" She imagined the toxin upon the ground as Woodrue's face once more, and threw down the flaming beaker into the its mass. Flames exploded up at once, a grin flashing across her face as she gazed into its orange depths. She picked up another beaker, ready to toss it into the flames as well.

But then, something about it caught her eye. She held the beaker back, observing the logo imprinted upon the glass. A large W, the words Wayne Enterprises printed underneath the logo.

What?

"Hmm….Wayne Enterprises…" As in the company that she had poured several years worth of sweat and extensive research into at an alarming rate. Inspiration! Yes. That had to be it, the first steps to creating the new Eden. The power of Bruce Wayne, playboy extremist and billionaire, to finance her road to the uprising: he had provided Woodrue with funding and instrumental clause grants in order to bring about his work. Wayne Enterprises had power unimaginable, its influence massed about the world, able to change destines with command alone in instantaneous ways.

The heat of the flames impassioned her and she smiled.

"Ruggggh!"

She heard him calling out from the distant Gilgamesh wing. Heard his cries for freedom, and for prey. Of course… Her smile matched almost the warmth of the fire itself, as inspiration overtook her.

"Coming Bane darling…we've got a plane to catch." She turned around and threw the beaker into the flames, allowing the fire to burn high and it rose with a passion not unlike that which she felt for her goal at hand. The pheromones… She raised an arm, examining her veins fondly. What contamination lingered in there? The speculation was moving. She lightly brushed her arm with a tender care, and saw the small flakes of pink spore fly up. She was still covered in pheromones. Woodrue truly had been dead from the moment she rose. How many more would she be able to kill? The thought was heaven in her stride.

She approached the Gilgamesh door with confidence, bare feet trampling over dirty concrete but she cared not. The earth was hers. She longed for its embrace. She placed her hand upon the door, and pushed open lightly, the smile still plastered onto her face. There was a voice issuing in the room beyond, frantic and scared. A young man, pleading with an unknown force. She walked gracefully into Woodrue's large wing, the stale smell of the chemicals used for Bane's uprising still strong about the air.

A young man indeed it was. She entered the large chamber and saw with amusement the man kneeling before the giant Bane, who towered with a dark presence, who breathed with a ragged hatred. Anticipation of the lion's leap before the prey's consumption. A preparation of a feast, to be bloody and slow. The beast of a man was shaking with fury, the Venom pumping rapidly into his body with a strong de-suction from the tanks built onto his back.

The young, dark haired man of Brazilian origin was terrified, whimpering and begging in his own language. For the most intense moment, she had the sudden impulse to run to the man, and subject him to her newfound passion for murder via poisonous kiss. She wanted to kill again. Needed to kill again. He would have cash on him, surely. Cash, among other essentials to prepare for the trip to America that must be undertaken.

She twiddled her flaming red hair in hand, wondering if and when she should kill the man, but something held her back. The way Bane the Atronach beheld the man. She could feel it, smell it in the air, even. He was letting of the strangest scent, something like cleaning fluid. And somehow, she just knew it preceded obliteration.

"DO IT!" she cried suddenly, her heart breaking with joy and anticipation. She had become cheerleader to the skirmisher. She waved her arms in the air, the vines and heavy leaves that clung to her acting as makeshift palm palms. Bane and the young man looked around at her. She winked at the man on the floor, blowing him a kiss. "I just have to see you crushed," she told him softly, her voice mellow as if inspired by very deep poetry. "Bane, darling, slaughter him for me."

"¿Qué demonios!?" the man shouted, wide eyed as his mouth dropped at the sight of her. He made an involuntary move towards her, and Bane noticed. Bane cared about such actions in this moment. And Bane struck. The giant's hand struck forward and fat, iron-like green fingers wrapped around the Spanish man's neck. The man made a fierce guttural of a sound, his eyes widening in horror as Bane pulled him forward and squeezed.

She grinned as a loud crack sounded off throughout the room. Blood squirted from his eyes as Bane obliterated his throat with a single force of a squeeze. She rubbed her leg thoughtfully, aroused by Bane's pest control. She watched with girlish enthusiasm as the body crumpled to the floor, and that alone was enjoyable entertainment. The way it made a loud _plump_ upon the dusty concrete, the way the eyes stared outward even though they could not see, and the _stillness_ of it. Life itself stopped and suspended for an eternity within ice. She and Bane were one in that moment, both absorbed in the power of their own degradation and insanity. They were both in death as they had been in their old lives: conquerors. It had taken one key ingredient, of course, to realize it, and that had been Woodrue. He had been the tool, instigated by the will of nature that she so desperately craved to worship, to bring these chained events into being.

_O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate;_

_What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate_

She approached him, though only slowly in caution. He turned gaze towards her, grumbling deeply as the masked man looked intently at the approaching vision of ethereal grace. She smiled, a soft smile, confident as to assure both him and herself that this was okay, that they were safe, that in union their power would be unstoppable. He craved the hunt, and she craved to be hunted, for they both had ways of devouring that could simply not be denied.

"Bane, he calls you. "Bane of Humanity." Such a stupid name. A stupid wonderful name, more like. He's right, Bane. It's beautiful. Bane of all humanity. Because I see it, I _saw_ it. The kill. You love the kill. And do you know what?" She stopped before her, brave, assured that she could survive this. Bane made no move against her. Not yet. She could definitely feel the impulses burning inside of him, desiring to crack her in half as he had done to the young lab assistant, but she felt confident she could win a spare of her life over. And if not…well, now, what a way to die, destroyed by the hand of nature itself. He had come from the plant toxins too, _her_ plant toxins. He was as much a child of nature as she was, and she would respect his aspirations. "Do you know what, Bane of Humanity? I like the sound of that. And I know you do too. You had no reason to kill this man before us, now did you?" She rolled over the dead man with her foot, so that he looked skyward, at his conquerors. "There was no reason to take from him what was rightfully to be taken… but there was an _earthly_ reason. Because the earth commands that its enemies be used for soil, does it not?"

Bane shifted, stepping forward and breathing hard. His hands were twitching. She grinned.

"I can feel power radiating out of you but something else as well. _Desire_. You have desire. And what, may I ask, is that desire? By the looks of this," she noted, kicking the dead man hard in the ribs, "I say you're looking for a pack to hunt. You're a wild animal, and you did not even need my chemical studies and Woodrue's corruption to see it, now did you? "Antonio Diego, serial murderer serving life," as he put it. Well, Antonio, I bet you killed because you enjoyed killing. Remorseless. It was sport, a much needed hobby…and then the hobby turned to _breath_. You had to kill in order to breath; there was just no other way. The power you have over someone, to control them with a mental leash before you extinguish them: it's poetry. A fundamental basic need. You want power over an individual because having your way pretty much sets up a self-proclaimed divinity, doesn't it?"

She tapped him lightly on the chest, just above the Turbo button that Woodrue had installed onto his tank. He did not react violently. He did move his hand, however, a slow but heavy movement, grabbing at her wrist. She showed him no fear, however, but gazed confidently into his eye holds. Her free hand came to rest upon his right cheek.

"You kill because you get a thrill out of it. I'd love to read your police file some time. These days it might come off as an erotic novel to me, but we're all nuts, aren't we? I admire that characteristic. And much more, I sympathize with you. You need a hunting ground, and Bane dear, I have a big one that will give you the hunt of your life." Her hand moved down his cheek and slid down his chest. She could feel the pheromones lingering in the air as she focused her body on emitting them. Could smell them burning the room's very atmosphere. And Bane…she knew he could smell them too. That was the reason for his docile form. A beautiful, half naked woman with beauty such as hers would stand little chance against the advances of a titan like him, but here was, calm and held back. How far would she tempt him?

Her fingers found what she sought: the trigger point. The centerpiece of the groin, no less. Crown jewels for the taking, should anyone dare to use such a primitive tactic on such a boisterous being. But he seized in place, a statue where he stood, and she nodded wisely. Expected.

"Interesting that you still have so much formal drawing to the old ways, huh? It's the corruption that nature has not spared us of. Those _human_ ways. Disgusting as they are, you need human corruption in order to remove it, don't you? The two of us…we can remove so much human corruption. Namely, humans, as they _are_ corruption. Corruption upon my earth, the world of Mother Nature. Corpses, Bane, I'm talking corpses by the masses. Let me tempt you, Bane… tempt you by appealing to your most admirable trait: your need to kill, as I need to kill. Let's kill together."

She moved in on him now, wrapping a leg around him as she forced herself against the growth that, even corrupted into a beast as he was, was still there, still apparent. He released her wrist, and as painful as his hold had been, the throbbingness of it noted right away like a small fire, she fought the temptation to scold and growl. Forcing her care about the pain in her arm to subside for the moment, she lifted her hands to his mask and pushed upward.

The man that she had seen strapped to the table, being subjected to Jason Woodrue's corrupting experimentations, was completely gone. No child-like scorn or fear in the structure, but a swollen face, spoiled green, the veins thickly protruding out to resemble a man who may have very well been stung by a thousand mutated bees. And yet…he was beautiful. Those eyes… they burned a crisp golden color. More of a golden green, something lime and yet _glowing_. Inhuman. So very inhuman. She felt a bond rise up between the two of them, admiring the inhumanity for something to be written about and acknowledged in tale, when her children would one day begin a descent back into literature. When all the Earth was dead and gone, she would have this beautiful creature. And much more, there would be sons and daughter to branch off from the Mother Tree, to ensure that the Plant Earth never forgot the legend of the great Bane, and his Queen.

She had to risk it. The temptation was far too great. He was glazed over, swayed by her irresistible charm, and she had to see. She pulled his face and kissed all too passionately the swollen green lips of the beast before her. Much more, in her madness, she focused all energy upon inducing the hemotoxin into his system. She felt that _rush_, a living river of poison that rushed from her body and broke its way into his system, burning at his blood vessels and swiftly pumping heart.

Bane moaned, a sound that suggested pain, she felt, but she did not let up. And he did not fight her. If she was correct in believing that the Venom had corrupted him in that special way, all would be well with this action. She released herself after several seconds, only after she felt a great rush of fatigue overcome her by the massive dose that she had administered to Bane. The giant and the flower both reeled back on the spot, her vision dazing for a moment, while he opened his mouth, green venom dripping from lips and down onto his shirt. His breathing was ragged, but he did not fall. Bane placed his hands upon his knees, bending over slightly, but still he held his form up.

Shaking her head to focus from the daze, she beheld the great beast of a man who fought hard against her poison. He was still alive. Not choking or gagging as Woodrue had. Alive, and only slightly overwhelmed by her poison. It was almost instantaneous that she felt an arousing heat rise up inside of her from the experimental attempted murder she had just tried on the man beast. She placed hand upon her own chest, feeling her heartbeat, caught in a rapid race behind her ribs.

"Bane…of humanity…" she whispered, her teeth flashing as she grinned at the potential enforcer. Bane's glowing eyes gazed up at her, as he fell down onto one knee. Still fighting. She bent down as well, stroking his chin with one hand, and placing her other hand, fingertips first, upon her lips. Focusing on the pheromones to enter him as well, as her fingertips went just inside, slightly past his lips. Bane made a strange noise, his head swaying on the spot. She nodded, understanding rising up inside of her. "The lab's burning in there, you know. But I'm sure Jason's left me a couple of things to work with in here, hasn't he?"

She looked around the room, examining the worktables that Woodrue had left behind. "How about we ensure that these pheromones stay with you always, Bane of Humanity?" she whispered to him, kissing him again, a quick two second of a kiss. Bane fell onto both knees now, his head shaking like a drunken man after far too much booze. That was satisfying enough. The holding tanks that Woodrue had constructed onto his back could supply well several days worth of the Venom compound. How easy would it be to have the pheromone spores bond with the appropriate core element used to trigger the Venom's effects? "I'll make you grovel for me, Bane. And then… then the two of us move forward. America is a hunting ground all on its own, a source of pollution and vagrance that simply must be eradicated. Do you want to help?"

She stood up, confidence now in this moment more than she ever had been. "Let's get hitched."


	5. Flight into the Night (The Obsessive Al)

"How does it feel?" she asked calmly, checking the small gauge on the blood pressure reader to affirm that the levels were as needed. The titan enforcer grunted loudly, an issue of sound forcing its way outward in a strained, pained sort of way.

"G-good…"

He speaks. Of course he would speak. She had heard him speak soon after his transformation. That moment of enjoyment as he reveled in his newfound gifts had exploded the word, "Bane" with enthusiasm. So he was good. As was needed.

"Good," she agreed, nodding with satisfaction at the levels. She withdrew the pressure reader and sat comfortably back in her seat. The soft padding of private Citation X seats were comforting as they soared across the night sky, the invisible Gulf of Mexico looked by their shadow thousands of feet below. Seven hours of driving to the São Paulo-Guarulhos International Airport, and then two hours of stalking appropriate prospects for stealing a private plane: color and comfort were everything. Faded greenish-brown had been her choice, courtesy of the late, poisoned businessman Senor Eduardo Salvador. Bane, the charming dear that he was, had even taken the pleasure of bashing in the skulls of Salvador's three bodyguards, effortlessly and calmly, of course. It had been like playing a game. Their bodies had been left to litter the airport runway, a going away present for the police of São Paulo, while Eduardo's brother, the pilot Alejandro, manned the cockpit up front, his mind dazed as Ivy continued to send whiffs of the pheromones every few minutes. He was hopelessly in love with her, and would never dare to question where she wanted him to take her, or why.

And of course, he would be rewarded. A kiss from the fair princess upon arrival in Gotham. He was fitting to deserve such a reward.

She was completely relaxed, overwhelmed by how easy this all was. Murder and sex seemed to have the same effects: pleasure. How many years had she spent, condemning criminals she had seen on television for their horrible, gruesome crimes against other mammals? To experience it now, the thrill of the kill… she could understand them. And much more, she could bring herself to create art of our own: the bodies the canvas, her poison the paint. She squeezed Bane's leg gently, as she threw her own over his lap, using him as a footrest, her head resting lightly against the plane window as she observed the sky around them. She kicked off her shoes, snapping her fingers at Bane and gesturing at her feet. A massage was required, and he understood right away as he obeyed the silent command.

She had donned new clothes of the mammal, shedding the tattered, ivy covered wear of her Rebirth for something more socially acceptable: a black business skirt with a similarly colored dress shirt and stockings. Her hair was put back, in a short bun, her hands hidden with leather gloves. She looked very professional, very generic, even, but still swelling with beauty that captivated victims to the exchange of saliva. A professional Wayne Enterprises employee, with a purpose to be brought before Bruce Wayne. And, of course, a wig to match her old hair color, however much a shame it was to hide away the sensual red that she had become. To build the steps to Eden, you had to plant the seeds, and grow them slowly. There would be time for Poison Ivy later. For now, the falseness of Pamela Lillian Isley, recently unemployed scientist from the Yadvich South American facility, would overtake as illusion. Lies.

Bane, on the other hand, would don the mask when in public, so as to not draw attention to his skin malfunctions. The excuse would be skin cancer, with UV radiation being a danger to the poor soul contained behind that mask. But, of course, as Woodrue had made her of the plant, so too had he made Bane of the mask. The mas was in every way him, and he deserved it as such, for to be above humankind, you must carry your mark, and carry it well. The mask was the scepter, as he red hair was her crown. Physical evidence of their ascension.

"Bane, dear, we should consider housing," she told him, as she pondered the idea of their living arrangements once they reached Gotham City. "Gotham's a great metropolis and the rates aren't the best. Once we secure a vehicle, maybe that can serve as temporary quarters…or, if we really want, we could take someone's home. What do you think, Bane? Will it be an old lady living out on West 5, or a family of three near Kent Square?" Her eyes flashed as she imagined the looks on the faces of any victim they potentially approached. "Young men go through puberty and must simply be taught how to _kiss_, Bane." She laughed darkly to herself, acknowledging, with a sort of amusement, her complete lack of empathy when it came to the thought of murdering a child. A mammal was a mammal, and it may be fun to kill a couple of kids here and there. They got scared more easily, and as far as she saw it, to cause them pain and terror would be almost like a form of foreplay.

Bane, of course, nodded silently, acknowledging that any decision on her part was to be respected, the idea simply worshipped without question. He finished massaging her and she spun herself around, to where she had her feet against the cold window and her head in the giant's lap. She gazed up into his eyeholes, pondering the thoughts of the mad mind within.

"We're going to destroy the world, Bane," the soulless, heartless plant queen whispered to him. She massaged her own groin as she thought of the chaos and death that the two of them could bring about. Corpses, for as high as the eye could see. Utter oblivion. "You're going to be a king, Bane. King Antonio Diego, father of the new Eden!" she announced loudly in a mock imitation of the Spanish accent. It was clumsy, but Bane grunted loudly.

"King…"

"Yes, Bane, king. Can you imagine it?" Self-pleasuring not denied, her thoughts turned to her murder of Woodrue, a sexual "fantasy" she could hold onto and enjoy. "Plants, breaking through the sidewalks themselves, vines that strangle mammals where they stride and flowers that release the most poisonous of spores into their throats…" She was starting to sweat, but the intensity of the thought was far too much for her to care as lubrication swelled from the daydream. "I'm going to have them lined up, by the masses, the men in chains as they move forward, one by one, to be subjected to my kiss, Bane. And the women, they'll become food to my babies, when I bring them life, tossed by groups of seven or eight into pits of giant Fly Traps and thorns by the thousands, their blood toiling the soil…" She gasped loudly, the intensity of it all too much. Her body was swelling with heat, swelling with anticipation. Bane held her calmly still, nodding with questioning it.

He wanted it too, even if he did not voice it aloud. She closed her eyes, trying to get her breathing under control. She wanted them dead. Dead, dead, all of them dead. Murdered, slaughtered, however the term came, she wanted it as badly as the greatest fortune. Eden would come, of course, to begin the new world, the new haven, but the _pleasure_ itself came from knowing that she could bring as much death and destruction to the mammals that destroyed Mother Earth as she would be able to.

_"Pamela Isley," her mother had once said. "It's a beautiful name, isn't it? You're going to grow up to do amazing things, Pamela. I just know it. You hold onto every dream you come across and don't hold back, and fight the world when it tries to take it from you_."

Well, mama dear, that dream was going to be fulfilled. And you would die with the rest of the mammals. It was only fitting that she must die. She existed, and that made her an enemy of Mother Nature. Pamela Isley, the false form, was dead, and she would ensure that Isley stayed dead. Poison Ivy was the true form, the realized haven of nature in a living body. Poison as her name suggested, to the incarnate, and Ivy as ever, because she would grow rapidly over all other living things without their approval. Without their judgment. The world would burn, and she would ensure that she did her part to bring that apocalypse about.

Her smell was affecting Bane. His head dropped as the overwhelming pheromones took his senses, for her self-passion was releasing them by the masses. But she did not care. Let him suffer. That alone was exhilarating, to know that she could torment someone and still have them grovel for her. All that was left of this entity was hate. Hate for every living thing, including the titan Bane. What was he, but something that Mother Earth had given to her to bring about her victory and then dispose of like the rest of the mammals? He could never be like her. She was perfection. And perfection was all she would have in her world. Anyone less than that perfection had no place, and would simply be eradicated.

_I hate this world_, she thought venomously.

"Ma'am…" the pilot at the front sounded so very disoriented. He groaned loudly. She settled herself up, wiping the sweat from her face as she looked towards the cockpit.

"Yes, lover?"

"Oh, wow… you smell…so wonderful…"

"That I do," she agreed in a soft voice that sung choirs of sensuality, intentional to subjugate his mind all the more. She widened the gap between each leg, so as to release the pheromone more strongly so. "I bet you want me, don't you, Alejandro?"

"S…s-si….si…."

"Well, keep flying for me," she whispered lovingly, producing from her pocket a small makeup mirror, the casing crafted to the shape of an oak leaf. What little time the fire had given her back at the lab had enabled a collection of the pheromones she emitted to be powdered, and the pink dust, very much like glitter. She held it up and blew a strong dust cloud forward, the pheromones taking on a life of their own as they sailed through the air as pink smoke, overwhelming the pilot inside of the pit. He moaned loudly, sounding as a man who had been given the most passionate of times. "Keep flying for me and you will have earned your reward," she promised, enjoying his subjugation. "I'm going to kiss you, Alejandro, so very passionately. Would you like that?"

"Si…si! Si! SI!" He was positively screaming, so loudly and so animalistically. A gorilla dancing for food, a child putting on a magic show for the impression of his parents.

"Then fly, Alejandro! Fly for me! Gotham City is the destination, so bring me there and I will love you so much. You want me? You can have me, once we touch down in Gotham. Because in all honesty, Alejandro…_I _want_ you_."

The man sighed, his breathing so heavy he may very well have a heart attack. She rubbed her hands together, grinning up at Bane. She was his. "He's so mine, Bane, darling. The poor fool's gone mad for me, can you hear him?" She looked forward, smiling her evil smile. "So fun is it to pry with the minds of useless mammals and make them beg for their food."

"Food…"

"Oh, yeah, that's right. We haven't eaten yet, have we?" She turned around in the seat and looked into the large duffle bag that sat there. Unzipping the great bulk, she produced from its depths a glass jar. Contained inside of the jar were at least fifty grasshoppers and even a few caterpillars. Holes were poked into the top of the lid to provide air. She unstoppered the lid and reached a hand inside, scraping up a couple of caterpillars, one of which was a large orange-back Oakwork, as well as a fat South American locust. Without hesitation she lifted her hand and forced the insects, still thriving and very much alive, into her mouth, whilst simultaneously closing the lid to the jar, though she had pulled all of the wings from the grasshoppers within and the caterpillars moved so slowly that none had a chance of escaping. The insects in mouth crunched satisfyingly between her teeth and gums as she munched on the bugs, a strange mixture of bitter juices moisturizing her gums as she chewed. She closed her eyes, rubbing her stomach slowly as she moaned with a very vocal, "Umm…"

Bane watched her with an intense stare, yearning for some bugs himself, if that was all they had, but she gave him none. She stuffed the jar back into her bag and swallowed the small mass of critters, opening her eyes as her green irises flashed.

"This dinner practically crawls around within, doesn't it, Bane? But the ascension makes it clear that we must play our roles as such. What?" She noticed the silent, stone still look that that mask gave her, and he mumbled loudly, "Food….."

"The food in that bag is for me, Bane. You…you can find your own food, surely, when we reach Gotham, yeah?"

"Food!" Bane grumbled, more loudly this time. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"And what exactly do you want, Bane?"

"Any…thing…"

"Anything, huh? You stupid lumbering ape. Can't you speak faster?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head sadly. "Just starve for a while, Bane. Save your appetite for Gotham. There's going to be plenty to feast upon there, I assure you. The bones of children or dogs pulled off the street. Won't those be enough?"

He said nothing to this. The stoniness of him made him almost seemed like an overgrown puppet. It was eerie, in some ways. Unsure as to whether or not he could truly be alive. Well, that fitted well. He was dead to her, already, for having committed the sin of existing.

She patted him lightly on the chest. So close to the Turbo button. She gandered at the guess that, if pressed, the Venom compound may drive him into such a frenzy that he may very well storm into the cockpit and tear the pilot limb from limb, if only to crunch upon the bones. As amusing and admittedly hot as that would be to watch, neither of them knew how to pilot or land a plane, and thus Alejandro could not be killed until Gotham City. And, of course, _she_ wanted to kill Alejandro. Waiting for that beautiful moment was almost more than she could bear….

_"Dear Pamela, welcome, welcome! My name is Jason, Jason Woodrue! How do you do?"_

_ "I'm fine, Dr. Woodrue. Thank you so much for accepting my application. I've always wanted to come to South America."_

_ "My dear, you will be a ripe sight of a flower within this lonely jungle. You and I…we're going places, I can assure you…"_

Yeah, Jason, that was all well and good. They had gone places, and those places had revealed so much. The village of Gier se Dosa to steal an orchid flower called the Zanzept, for its potent toxin Haryllium, to the Colombia Institute of Wildlife Preservation, yet again for the theft of Unyx plant samples. And all of that work for what? Jason had known her aspirations. To give plants the abilities to fight back. Animal plant toxins. He had encouraged it. Adored it, even. Their shared repulsion had given room for an alliance less desired by Ivy's end.

"Bruce Wayne won't be any different, Bane, I can assure you. He's as stuck to himself as any other fly would be to honey. I just have to use the right allure. A fly like that loves a Venus fly trap. With his resources, Eden will have its march. Rising up from the ashes of mankind's slime. Do you think that Wayne will enjoy my company as much as you do, Bane? Do you think he'll let me into his house, maybe even into his bed? What I wouldn't give to induce death upon that waste of fresh air. He funded Woodrue this entire time, aided in the corruption of my work. What chance could I give plants to fight back with a man like that funding Woodrue's falsery behind all our backs? My children were starved of their chance by Bruce Wayne's wasted money. Well, you know what, Bane? Poison Ivy has marked Bruce Wayne on her list. He'll be one of the first to go. First, I'll approach him with my "Wayne Enterprises: A Cessation of Toxifications" proposal. It might allure to his good will not to give into that proposition, as it would conflict with the standard "We can't have a mass killing on our hands" protocol."

"As for when he outwardly refuses, it will be the beginning of his downfall. The people will not only see him as coward, but also unwilling to help the environment he has sworn to protect with institutions such as the South American facility. That being said, his hypocritical nature, along with pressure from the press, could push him beyond his limits and he may be forced to consider the proposal. A little "love dust", of course, will come into play, Bane. Alejandro here exemplifies the very nature of my growing power, Bane: they will submit because I deem it required. They would trade their very souls for five seconds of my company if my pheromones willed it. Bruce Wayne won't be any more invulnerable than our pilot friend here."

"Assuming that this goes as well as I see it going, we can have deaths by the millions near the end of the month. Imagine that, Bane. Millions of people freezing to death and starving, all because Bruce Wayne put a stopper on the access to diesel fuel and food coolants. All of this will contribute to the new Eden. With millions dying, this world will be purified to the state that I need it to be. And the Wayne name will be the start of it all. Well, the _official_ start. Woodrue, truly, was the name that started it."

"I can see it now, Bane. Vines strangling whole skyscrapers and poisonous spores for thousands and thousands of miles. Our Eden, Bane, can you imagine it? I just need Wayne to push the first stages into action. I'm ready for it, Bane. It's the future."

She looked out of the window, anticipating the end of the world which was so close to her grasp. "It's the future…"

Her hot, steamy breath clouded the window, and she happily traced her finger about the mist, spelling out the word **EDEN** with a mad smile on her face. "Who will try to stand in the way, I wonder?"


	6. An Airport Ailment ( The Body Count Ups)

The Citation made descent in the Alexander Wayne International Airport around seven in the morning, just as the sky was reaching its strong shade of gray light with a crown of lavender and gold lightly decorating its clouds. A quiet morning, for a new beginning. Alejandro took the plane down into a steep dive as the runway became clear and ready for their arrival, the mass of metropolis that was Gotham City wide awake even in this hour of the morning, with its five million residents honking horns, cursing at each other through car windows, popping off drinks in harmonious laughter, and street performing their way into masses of pennies and quarters.

Alive, and in every way clichéd to the exotic ways of "muchness". Funnily enough, it was fitting that this should be the start of it all: from a madman clown who has gassed an entire parade turnout, to a crazed cannibal midget who had attempted to blow the skyscrapers to kingdom come via exploding penguins, Gotham had had many opportunities to arise itself to handling situations of exotic flavor.

But this flavor was bitter, poisonous even. Bane was the first to awake, his eyes snapping open and glowing their fierce golden green as he looked around the dimly lit plane, hearing the pilot in cockpit humming softly to himself in a strange dazed sort of way. Ivy's effect was still going. Bane, ever sensible inwardly against his ability to express it, could have deduced that she had overwhelmed the South American pilot with far too much pheromone excess. His mind was crippled.

She slept softly against his arm, snuggled into the bulk, her long flowing, blood red hair trailing over his muscle buildup. She looked peaceful in her sleep, basking a soft slumber as she prepared for another day of murder and construction to Eden's benefit. He knew that she dreamed of her vast aspirations, but how to vocally commend them? She had given him a way out of that prison of a castle, had excited him with the purpose of mass annihilation. But would he be enough to ensure that it could be done? An enforcer he may be, but the Venom so strongly did take away from his intellectual abilities.

"_Ahora estamos aterrizando en nuestro destino, maestros. Ciudad de Gotham."_ The voice came out over the intercom built above their heads, the loudness of it quite magnified in the early morning stillness. Ivy grimaced in her sleep, a wretch of expression with gnashed teeth, before her green eyes snapped open and she cast an irritable look over towards the cockpit.

"Voy a matarte…" she muttered darkly, stretching her arms out as she yawned considerably. She looked up at Bane, who nodded silently at her, acknowledging her awakness for a new day of pushing around the titan. An acknowledgment that would not be questioned. "Morning, compadre. Sleep well?"

Bane nodded, grunting loudly with an incomprehensible offer. She patted his leg kindly.

"Good. I'm glad both of us did. I stayed awake for the longest time, thinking of so many things. It kind of scares me, you know, the anticipation." She looked out of the window, at the mass of city sweeping before her. A flash of an intense smile. "Then again, when you see something like _this_, widespread in all that it is, it's a jungle, Bane, and I know a jungle better than most, I reckon."

She began to tie her hair back into a soft bun, closing her eyes for a moment as she began to control her pulse. It was running rapidly this morning. Anticipation indeed.

"Bane, darling, we're going to have to take one of the cars already stationed once we land. I know we have enough money to rent one, but that just won't do. I'm _hungry_, Bane. I need breakfast."

Bane said nothing, but his mind reeled at her semantics. He knew very well this "hunger" would lead to a most unusual "breakfast": food poisoning, that was, in a strange sort of literary way. He held up a hand, and gently stroked her hair. She winked at him, rubbing his leg slowly as the silent understanding passed between them.

"Will you stand beside me?" she almost whispered, her lips slightly parted as her intense stare bored into his eyes. He felt sickness wash over him, a sort of nausea that came with a dread fear and discomfort. She had, from the very beginning, induced this feeling upon him. He feared and desired what she was, for her extremities were well beyond his own, and it was this knowledge that made her "goddess" in his eyes. He wondered just what it would be like…to give into the more wild cravings… a Venom enhanced mutation, compiled with the garden of a venom inducing ethereal… it sounded like a bad fan fiction. Then again, this had never been a normal occurrence to begin with.

But then she kissed him, quite passionately, her venom slipping into his throat with a very fast delivery, and as the nauseating, pain inducing hemotoxin seared at his stomach and organs, he closed his eyes, pulling her in tighter, needing the torment that it brought upon him. When she pulled away, he fell back in his seat, harshly breathing as his heart began to pump wildly. He could feel his body absorbing the poison, could feel it becoming one with his own blood. The feeling was beyond agony…and it was an agony that he _wanted_.

When the plane landed, ten minutes later, the two monsters stood from their seats, the baggage tied around Bane's shoulders, who was concealed with the confines of a massive, thick leather trench coat, his head hidden underneath a wide brimmed fedora. She herself had donned a head wrapping not unlike something from Thelma and Louise. They both looked up at each other, her hand stroking his crotch in the same way that she would hold his hand, to assure him that all was going to be well, and that the events that would transpire from such an arrival were only going to bring about Eden for the better: that they would break through soon, and change all things.

"Let's kill him," she said, her breath caught from enthusiasm. It was the moment she had waited for, the timing leading up to it an agonous procrastination. Now her blood was boiling and she was getting turned on by the idea, and Bane knew that she would not last for much longer. She had to kill now. The smell coming off of her was enough of an overwhelming indicator. Its stench…

Bane strode forward, just as Alejandro was exiting the cockpit.

"Senor, Senorita, welcome to-umph!" Bane's massive fist wrenched around his neck and the young man was pulled forward, as the titan tossed him over and onto the floor with a thick _crunch_ at Ivy's feet. She wasted no time at all. She leapt down upon the man and grabbed his face with her black gloved hands, licking her lips as the heat of passion that pre-destined murder overwhelmed her.

"This trip was to die for," she whispered, pressing her lips hard against the bewildered man. As her poison rushed into his lungs and his throat, his eyes widened and he gasped, horribly, his body jerking as he tried to fight her off, but she held him firmly against her, all manner of horrible stench exploding from her as hormones ruptured like fire, her intoxicating passion overwhelming even Bane, who fell to his knees at the emissions. Ivy was making the most sensual of moaning sounds as she killed the man.

After several seconds, Alejandro stopped jerking. Stopped moving altogether. He was dead far long before Ivy removed her lips from his own, her kiss pushing far forward post mortem. Corpse or not, it was sensual that she should enjoy every second that she could. She could feel a powerful elation below, lubricating by the _thought_ of her action. When she finally released him, the man's face was swollen horribly, his veins swelling outward, filled with the most vibrant green substance, his very eyes filled with the poison, a nasty blackish-green. Destroying all light from the young man, all color.

She was breathing so hard, so desperately, her skin burning red with the heat rushing off of her. She gasped as she fell on her back, sprawled over the dead man's body, pleasuring herself over what she had just did. As she did not, she looked to Bane, who could only watch in silence, bewildered and enthralled at the same time.

"Bane," she whispered, gesturing at him with a finger. He obeyed at once, crawling across the floor over to her, for there was an evil consummation to rupture and she would have it now. Minutes of precious indulgence, a smell like no other, perhaps it could kill if it touched any who had not been given the advances that had been given to Pamela Isley and Antonio Diego. But he entered like an obedient dog, allowing her to lead him on, two becoming one in the most evil moment of consummation, the sort of love making that proceeded murder with a horrible sense of self-gratification…

When several minutes of the dark consummation had passed, she finally pushed him away, though gently, pulling her lower wear back over herself as she lay there, breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling, her mind focused on the most extreme form of self-worship.

"Bane…oh, Bane, what am I to do with myself?" she asked him softly. Bane, erect from the passion that so overwhelmed his senses, could answer little to that question, instead clawing at the floor to bring about self-control. Ivy stretched out her arms above her head, moaning. This world was hers, and no one could tell her otherwise. She existed as chains, and those chains would entwined the planet as vines, and the vines would be an eternal reminder to the future race of Earth that she was Mother Nature, and she was also never to be questioned: for Poison Ivy was the bringer of the Apocalypse… yes…that was the plan…

The baggage handlers were waiting patiently outside of the plane, wondering as to the cause of the delay concerning the passengers onboard. But the door did come to open, and out of it did step the most alluring of women, a redhead of the ages. Divinity in their perception, of course, questioned, but not ultimately forgotten in the acknowledgment. She was _there_, and this knowledge was powerful enough to drive them beyond their wits.

There were seven of them, five men and two women, all waiting to be allowed onboard as to provide a luggage pick up service. Ivy raised a hand, waving at them all with a tender smile.

"Evening, Gothamites. I do wonder how you all were so inclined to greet me."

The seven handlers exchanged funny looks. There was the most foul stench coming from aboard, seemingly coming _off_ of the woman who was now stepping down the stairway from the plane. Behind her, there came the very large titan. Bane had the bags wrapped well and carried them heavy luggage with ease, causing a few of the handlers to back away in surprise.

"Maam, we could have gotten those…" said one of the men up front with an odd awkwardness to his reminder. Ivy approached him calmly, placing her gloved hand upon his cheek and blowing into his face, the small pile of pheromone dust in her other hand sailing through the air with a life of its own as it overwhelmed the seven handlers. At once their faces relaxed, their mouths plastered with idiotic grins, and Ivy grinned back at Bane herself.

"They're all slaves, Bane. All of them. Revel in the though, fellow king of Eden." She turned back to the lovestruck man, who was shaking uncontrollably, muttering something incomprehensible as he fell to his knees upon the concrete runway, gazing up at her as Woodrue had done, when she had taken his life. "I think we can handle the bags, lover," she whispered into his ear, emphasizing the final word of the sentence, and the man gasped, placing his hand over his own heart, and she knew that it must simply be racing beyond its limits. Hopefully, it would kill him, a heart attack notwithstanding. The other six handlers also fell to their knees, ogling mindlessly. She had given them a powerful dose indeed: her pheromones were still on the rage, their very power and force emphasized by the murder of Alejandro, and her sexual joining with Bane.

"Bane, darling, crush their necks, the lot of them, and meet me outside the terminal. I'll secure us transportation, dear." She forced a hand upon his chest and pushed the turbo button. As she walked away, smiling a deep sense of devilsome pleasure, she could hear their screams from behind. Bane was absolutely obliterating them, and she could hear crunches a plenty sounding off in the morning fog behind. She closed her eyes, smelling the scent of the air about her. It was the smell of ages: her promise that she would bring upon Gotham a gravestone, to etch upon its name its final days.

She made her way through the crowded airport terminal, waving and smiling at every man and women who turned to look at her, catching her scent in their nostrils. She was as a walking gas bomb, tipping off hormones in the masses. And her beauty was also vibrant. The terminal was dimly lit, however, and many people still slept in a soft snugness, allowing her to pass through quickly without getting too much inclination. The exit doors were on the other side, and there would be cars there. As she had told Bane, they could afford to rent one of their own. But this morning was a morning for the hunt, and she must simply live up to her new status of phsycopathia.

Someone brushed past her, shoving her hard, and she stumbled to the left, looking around angrily to see who had done such a horrible thing. A middle aged man, dressed in a fine black business suit, was rushing past, and he only looked over his shoulder once, giving her a quick, glance and muttering, "Sorry," in a halfhearted sort of way, before rushing out into the lot.

Fury! Fury lie no other, anger like a fire from a burning volcano, and hatred to score something of a kill to her ambitions yet again. She quickly strode after the man, clattering across the way in her heels as she stalked the man to a nearby parking space near the terminal doors. A black and red limousine awaited her on the outside. She stopped in place, examining from afar the beauty of the 1967 Mercedes-Benz. _That_ could definitely act as adequate transportation. The businessman who had pushed her to the side wad chatting in rushed tones with a fat little driver, who was looking frantic at his client's obvious irritation.

"Well, what the hell?" she asked herself. She strode forward, neither of the men aware of her approach. The businessman waved his arm to silence the driver and motioned for the small man to get in, while he himself jerked open the back door and threw himself inside. Just as the driver was settling himself inside of the car, Ivy grabbed at the door handle to where the businessman had just entered and wrenched it open.

"Hey!" the man spluttered loudly, and when she stooped her head down she saw that the back of the car was just big enough for two. A loveseat of a backseat, and he had taken the far side. She grinned with the enthusiasm of a high school girl going on a first date as she slipped inside with him and slammed the door shut. "What the hell, woman!?" The driver turned around too and looked peculiarly at her.

Ivy stretched out her arms, putting her arm around the man's shoulder while resting the other on the windowsill, gazing lovingly at the man beside her.

"You know, just because you have power to bully others, it doesn't mean that it will always be allowed to commence. Intolerance is vastly becoming a new norm, you see. Women like me have little of it for men like you."

"What the- who the hell do you think you are?" the man snapped, his eyes wide. "Get out of this car at once."

Ivy raised her eyebrows. She was well aware that the driver had a very dazed look over his face. He could smell what the businessman was oblivious to…and it was taking him. "Who am I?" she asked, in mock surprise, placing a hand over her heart as if hurt in her feelings.

"Yeah, that's right, who the hell do you think you are, woman?"

"I...? I…!? I, good sir, am poison. Poison, can you imagine? I am in every way," she said, grabbing his chin fiercely, "_Poison Ivy_."

And for the second time that morning, no less within an expanse that was less than an hour, she forced a kiss upon the doomed man before he could respond, felt the life drain out of him with an enthusiastic reveling, felt him kick and squirm but enjoyed the sensuality of the action. He gagged loudly, but already she had released him and pushed him against the window with as much bitterness and hatred as she could, and the businessman slumped dead against the cold window, his eyes staring at his suddenly horrified driver. He looked fearfully at the woman sitting so close behind him. She smiled, her eyes narrowing.

"See anything you like?" she said softly, whisperingly, as she would to a lover, sprawling herself out as she stretched out her arms across the backseat, kicking her feet up to rest upon the front seat middle holder. She stared down at her fine legs, and then back up at her, unsure as to what to do. The pheromones were playing with all senses and logic contained within, and he was unsure as to how to proceed about it.

Ivy glanced up, seeing a tall dark shadow standing on the other side of the glass. Bane had finally reached them, and he was peering into the window. She rolled down the thing, the driver still stoned to the spot. Bane grunted loudly when he saw her.

"Bane, darling, put the bags in the trunk and get in the front driver's seat," she told him, turning around at once and blowing another handful of pheromones into the driver's face. His eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. "Would you, kind sir, give Bane a hand and help him open the trunk?"

"Y-yes…y-yes…" he breathed raggedly, putting a shaking hand upon his door to open it. Ivy looked around at Bane. She sliced her hand across the throat, nodding at the driver. Bane nodded as well, understanding at once the hidden message. She rolled her window back up, laying her head back against the soft velvet of the limousine, glancing beside her to admire the corpse of the businessman who had insulted her.

"I love you," she whispered to it, stroking his poisoned filled face with affection. "_Gosh, _are you beautiful…"

She did not falter from her admiration even when there came a loud _clunk_ from behind, as Bane slammed the driver's head into trunk lid, and promptly slipped his body into the trunk along with their luggage. When the titan crawled into the front seat, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly upon the cheek.

"Welcome to Gotham, Bane. Let's go the park. It's time to start hunting for a home."


	7. Testing, Testing

_"There's a foul wind in the air…like the Plague of Ages sweeping down…"_

"Hold him, Bane, hold him still. Come here, you little piece of crap! You want to crush perfectly good flower beds? Here, have a focking kiss!"

_"No one can see where it does descend…but the knowledge of its existence burns the air itself…. And it cannot be denied…_

"Bane, crush her throat! Do it now. You want to smash your pretty little loafers all over these weeds, little girl? Well, you're fixing to learn what it feels like to be smashed. Kill her, Bane!"

_"When the devil descends, and writhes himself in ecstasy, there lay the corpses…there lay the fields of waste…"_

"I see you're smoking a cigarette, sir. Do you know how many plants are sacrificed _monthly_ to produce your sick, lung degrading _crap_!? Bane, _hold_ him!"

_"He'll bring about executions in the masses, slaughter by the days, till all the world is shriveled, and the tragedy spawns timeless plays_…"

"Do either of you two gentlemen know why my large friend here holds you as prisoners? Because I, dear boys, am focking Mother Nature, and you've _focked_ with me for far too long. Mmmh…"

_"Until the past becomes all meaning…and the world never carries on from its wounds…" _

Twenty executions. It had been a busy, but very productive, day. An avenger of Mother Earth had taken the initiative and all was well in the world. Ivy and Bane sat within a thick grove of low hanging trees, situated in the northern part of Gotham Central Park. The mass expanse of land contained within the city spread a beautiful 790 acres, larger than even that of Central Park in Manhatten. They both were spread out across the grass, both of them contemplating on the next actions. Seven hours of scoring across the massive world of its own, this gargantuan park. Twenty executions, ranging from a small, five year old girl who had taken to trampling defenseless weeds when she had strayed from the path of her protective mother, to two young men who had bore the nerve to walk through a patch of lilies in front of her, crushing the very lives from their fragile bodies.

The executions were low in number themselves, and this bothered her. Although twenty murders, when added to those lives taken back at the airport, was in its own way satisfying, it was simply not enough. At this rate, Eden could never be realized, because the population of mammals would persist more ravenously. She could kill, and kill well. Her body would be producing the hemotoxin in an indefinite way, but she was still only part of a two-man army. More were needed.

The battle to save the planet could not be won with two alone.

"What are we going to do, Bane?" she lamented upon him, tears falling down onto her cheeks and she stroked the grass tenderly, loving it, whispering to it softly to let it know that it know that its Mother was there.

"Wayne…" was what the titan could muster.

"Wayne, yes, but that will be tactical. A time consuming thread of events, no less. This world is spoiled, Bane, and we're only to kill about thirty within a span of eight hours. Compiled with a need to sleep, eat, and rest, as well as procure the experiments to begin the roots of Eden, we'll start decreasing in productivity. Bane…Antonio…we need help."

"Control….control…them…."

Ivy's eyes widened, her mouth parting. "Oh…now that _is_ an idea, isn't it, Bane? If I alone can secure a rigorous plane flight from South America to Gotham City, USA, with the pheromones…do you think that there are more extreme things I could do with it?" She rolled over on her side and looked at him. Bane nodded.

"Killers…."

"Killers, yes. We could make them see our ways, couldn't we, Bane? Make them _understand_. Oh, now there is an idea. We need to test it." She jumped to her feet, running quickly over to boisterous bushes surrounding the grove. Peering out of the thick brush, she looked around the mini-valley on the other side. A bicyclist was peddling his way up the concrete path towards where they were hidden. Behind him, racing at an equal, solitude of a speed, a friend. She heard Bane stepping his way from behind, felt him brush up against her like a dog in heart, and she glanced up at him, a mad expression over her face.

"Bane, there's a golden opportunity coming this way. Snatch them and drag him in, I'll take care of the rest."

She patted him gently on the chest and took off, and Bane wasted no time in rushing forward, crashing through the brush as he jumped out onto the path. Ivy heard screams as the two bicyclists crashed into the sudden giant who had seemingly teleported in front of them, but she knew that her titan enforcer would not be shaken in the slightest by their force. She reached into her purse and produced the leaf shaped make-up mirror. Eight hours of killing and produced for her enough hormones to produce another massive dose of the pheromones, and she had been quick to preserve the supplies needed. She turned around to face the ransacking brush as Bane crashed through, holding a struggling bicyclist in either hand by their shirts. They were kicking and yelling, demanding that he release them, but he had a firm grasp.

"Set them down, darling," Ivy commanded, and Bane obeyed, dropping them down at her feet. Both young men scrambled to their feet, but she was already blowing a very large dose of the pheromones into their frantic faces. The two men stopped rebelling at once, becoming docile as the effect rooted them to the spot. Ivy smiled seductively at the pair as she brought them in close to her, both of them ogling at the woman as they beheld her, completely enthralled beyond comprehension. "Welcome, dear boys, to our little grotto." She rubbed her fingers across one of their mouths, and her started trembling. "I need a little help from the pair of you. A science experiment, so to speak. Do you think I could hire the two of you for a moment?"

"Y-yeah…yeah…"

"Of course…sure….whatever…"

She had to force herself from bursting into hysterical, wicked laughter. This was too much for her. It was true entertainment, true pleasure in laughter's form. "Alright, do both of you want me?"

"Yes…"

"Hell yeah!" This time, he almost sounded as if he may cry, a tremor to his voice.

"How _bad_ do you want me?" she asked them, her breath burning into the faces, their lips so close. Both men forced their faces forward but Ivy pushed them away gently. As much as she wanted to kill them, she needed to experiment with them first. Truly test the limits of their power through _her_ power.

"I…want…want…I want…"

"Need…please…please, please, please…"

"Do you want me so badly that you would just _kill_ to have me?" she whispered, blowing yet another strong dose of pheromones into their faces. Both men were getting overheated beyond the point of capability, beyond their means to cope with what was happening. Their breathing was as sprinting, a jogger contained within their lungs. And their eyes, tearing terrible and wildly, crossed to the other.

"Y-yes…"

"Oh, my goodness…yes…"

"Then kill each other. The winner gets me." She pushed them both away and stood over beside Bane to watch. The effect was almost instantaneous. Both men, best friends since high school, and well into their current college years, were suddenly tearing at each other, their claws ripping like rabid eagles as they attacked. The tallest of the two, being the first that Ivy had spotted coming down the way, threw his hands around his friend's neck and began to squeeze, his face filled with a most mad expression as his eyes bulged and his teeth gnashed. The smallest friend tried to grip around his attacker's hands and throw him off, but the taller man was just too strong. Ivy began to clap loudly, applauding with cheers appropriate to a drunk college co-ed as the two men fought. "YES! COME ON, COME ON! KILL HIM! KILL HIM FOR ME AND I'LL FOCK YOU RIGHT HERE IN THE GROVE!"

"Yes!" the taller man screamed insanely, strangling his friend harder as he practically picked up the man's head and began to slam it against the ground. The younger man jerked wildly but was losing strength and consciousness fast. Ivy looked up lovingly at Bane.

"This was a good idea, Bane, dear," she told him affectionately. He responded by placing a hand upon her shoulder, in soft adoration. She hugged him tightly, squeezing his chest with as much affection as she could give the great titan. After a minute, the fight upon the ground ceased, and the tall man stood up from his friend, who lay motionless and glassy eyed, staring into the sky with no way of truly seeing. Dead, as his killer was fixing to be…

"I…I killed…for you…" the tall man whispered to her, gazing at her glossy eyed, his mouth hanging open, sweat dripping down his face. Ivy approached him, her heart swelling with pride.

"That you did," she acknowledged lustfully, throwing her arms around the unfortunate man. Bane watched her kill once again, poisoning the poor man where he stood, and the cyclist fell dead, crumbling on top of his friend that she had forced him to kill. She glanced down at their bodies with satisfaction. "That was a wonderful test," she told herself, wiping his saliva from her lips, smiling softly. "So, Bane, your thoughts?"

"More…"

"Yeah, I agree, more. This worked well. They had no hesitation, no qualms about morality. I told them to kill, and they only had the idea to ask how many. I can use this, Bane, I really can. It's the same exact case with Jervis Tetch's work on neural suggestion to a dominant process. Although I never would have guessed that I could actually bring it that far through plant pheromones, it still doesn't escape notice I've stumbled across something new here."

She crouched down beside her purse, placing the mirror back inside of it, and standing to her feet. "Alright, we've gotten enough results from here, for the time being. As much as I would love to stay in this perfect place…" She stroked a low hanging bush with its Ferra-Flowers blooming strongly with an elegant touch. "…I really must press on. We won't be able to stay here, Bane, it's too well monitored by police overseers. We'll need to find a quiet, secluded place… Let's get back to the car."

Bane nodded. "Yes…"

_"Don't you know, you're the only one who really matters… and don't you know, you're the only one who cares…"_ sang the radio as the two of them drove through Madison Central Street in the western downtown part of Gotham. Cars bustled by fast and people littered like the streets like ants as they passed by. Ivy held the hands of the businessman's corpse and danced about in the backseat with him, her head resting softly against his as she held him close, his body flumping side to side as she "slow-danced" to the beautiful song.

"' Don't you know, I can feel you cold,'" she sang soothingly to the dead man, taking in the scent of his oiled hair. "' Don't you know, our time together just doesn't get old…'"

Bane kept glancing into the backseat, not wanting to say anything to interrupt the two while on their date. She looked so happy, as she held him close, the most tender expression on her face as she smiled, and it broke his heart in a positive way to see her joy, that wondrous elation. He dare not cut in.

When the song finished, she pushed the dead body off of her once more, slamming it hard against the window, giggling uncontrollably when the corpse bounced right back off and landed face first into her lap. "Oh, you _are_ naughty…" She giggled more so, taking another swig of vodka from the canteen she had founded stashed in his suit. "Alright…I really don't mind you there at all. Must smell great down there, huh? I am perfection, after all." She stroked his hair soothingly as she looked up at Bane. "Turn the station to something else, Bane."

The titan obeyed, switching the music station to GC-34. She pushed the dead man off of her once more, where he sunk down into the floorboard. She raised her feet to get him off of her and then, once he was lowered, used him as a footrest. A small black box was settled in the passenger seat beside Bane, and she reached forward, snatching it up. Now was the time, she supposed.

Inside of the black box was a light brown wig, cut short to a length that so very much resembled the dead Pamela Isley's hair. She would be impersonating Isley during her meeting with Wayne today, as Bane was driving them even now towards Wayne Enterprises in the Northern Kingdom District of Gotham. As she began to situated the wig upon her hair, to be followed soon with an application of brown contact lenses, a woman on the radio began to report.

"We're here live at Gotham Observatory, where billionaire Bruce Wayne, chairman of Wayne Enterprises-" Her eyes widened. "- is about to make yet another legendary contribution to the city…"

Inspiration of necessity. It was closer, and he was _there_!

"Gotham Observatory, Bane!" she said suddenly, knowing that this was her time, knowing that Mother Earth itself was directing her. "And step on it!"

"Um..step…" Bane managed. His head was getting groggy. He had gone so long without eating… But he dared not delay in the orders, and he promptly sped the limousine up, speeding it along the desolate street of Gotham, glancing up at the Map of Sites that the previous driver had conveniently had taped to the passenger seat mirror. **Gotham Observatory** was listed as a major site, along with its address….

She could practically feel her children screaming with joy now.

"This is the moment…" she whispered to the small black box beside her. For there was one more thing contained within. A small glass vial, holding prototypes that she had brought in from South America. They were fat, black, teardrop shaped pods… and they were just begging her for nutriment…


	8. A History Lesson (Enter Bruce Wayne)

Brujería. The practice is regarded as "mystical sect coordinated to the male witches, primarily based in the Southern regions of Argentina". The ancient paganism was believed to have branched off from Mesoamerican originations. The practices were, for the most part, feared beyond comprehension. There were many tribes of this sect, notably infamous names being the legend of Kalku of Chile and so on to the more extreme forms of their work, with dabblings into herbally based spells and objectified powers, transmitted through the channels of physical objects.

One sect of the Brujeria, of course, originated in the jungles of Brazil. A group of powerful warriors, bent on an almost daily worship of their believed "god", Cambiar. Cambiar, meaning "change", was a dark, false idol of malevolent intentions involving the human race. Cambiar was truly a demon, or so says the legend, that had developed a several centuries old game with the local tribe known as the "Come Agua", meaning "eats water".

The Come Agua believed that Earth, but by their tongue, Madre de Verde, was a living being bound in chains, enslaved by the peoples of the world who did not worship her name. In other words, outsiders to their tribe, the six billion other inhabitants of the planet. Madre de Verde was a mother to all that was green and all that gave green their heeding, and loved them well, supplying them with abundance in wondrous detail and taste. But all the same, she was still bound by the chains of the humans who crawled about her back and stole from her body what was rightfully belonging to the people of the Come Agua.

In this, the Come Agua developed a belief system that, to save Madre de Verde, the desolation of the peoples of the world was in order, and this was brought to reality in the form of cannibalism and ritual sacrifice. The men, strong warriors trained to be battled hardened by the cruelest means imaginable, would be sent out into the wilderness to hunt for outsider humans, sometimes to the point where they would raid local villages and kidnap man, woman, and child alike as they slept. These humans would be drug back to the village of Come Agua and feasted upon without hesitation, or else given a sacrifice to the statue of Madre de Verde constructed in their village square.

And so, as legend tells us, it came to be that one night, a young man of the village who had recently lost his father in one of their raids, walked about the village alone, the burning fire of the recent meal still flickering low as the young man circled about the statue of Madre de Verde. Legend, of course, tells us this:

_And as the young warrior, his tears falling by the loss of his father in battle, walked about the stonework that worshiped the idea of the Madre de Verde, it was, with an unexpected suddenness, that the stone woman began to speak to him. She moved not a mouth, not a fragment or so, but her voice was as clear as any living being made from flesh and bone. The young man, taken by her most beautiful voice, fell to his knees, gazing lovingly up at the statue as it spoke to him:_

"_Ujut," the statue whispered, for this was the warrior's name, "Ujut, why do you shed tears upon my Earth, for have I, queen of this body, called upon the rain of humans? Why do you shed tears without acknowledging my permissions?"_

"_Oh, goddess, forgive me," the young man had plead with his false idol. "My father has passed in battle this very evening, and the pain of it is far too much to bear, for in my human weakness, I share not your strength." _

"_You have but one bout of strength, and it is that you hear my voice, do you not? Is it not that you can feel the wind as my words, and the grass as my hand, holding you as I speak? You, warrior Ujut, have been graced with an honor unlike any other. To hear perfection itself, speak with words upon you like a promise, as lover's kiss, even." _

"_If you have chosen to speak to me, then I am to serve you in any way that I am called to?"_

"_If you are to serve me, then you must first put away all thoughts of your father's passing, for he has died in my service, taken by his love for me that so did drive him to kill those worthless parasites that crawl upon my belly and steal from me my health. Instead, you are to focus on the future, for that is the path I walk. And what future awaits me with the parasites of the world?"_

"_Blood, my goddess, as you have commanded of us."_

"_All too true have I commanded it. And your people have done well to follow it. But now, there is a change in the lower-fields of my body. The lower-fields where the fires never die."_

"_Beneath the grace?" Ujut had heard of the lower fields of never ending fire, beneath the grace of the Madre de Verde. It was a place of evil, housing the most malevolent beasts. _

"_They writhe in fury, clawing through the flames to reach out and devour the parasites for themselves, but in doing so, reject that it is for my own purpose that this must take place. And thus, in this, I have found among the beasts of the fire only one suitable to this cause. Only one who has given his worthiness to be freed from the flaming prison below, that he may shed the blood of parasites in MY name, and my name alone."_

"_Surely, then, this creature would seek kingsmanship over our home!" Ujut fearfully proclaimed. _

"_By my will, I have given him that right. Cambiar. Worship the name Cambiar, for he is my servant and my servant will lead the lower swords, that under Cambiar, you would bring about blood to the parasites, and my worship would be forever revered across the ten thousand nations. Cambiar lives because I allow him to live, that I told the keys to his chains, and with his chains he will come to lead you, that they remind him of his service to me. I send him now, in this very moment, that when he comes, he will truly know your people for what they are. He was acknowledge your peoples' dedication to me, I as Madre de Verde, that I am to be worshipped beyond the ages. That the parasites who are not one with Madre de Verde have only one destiny that will be commanded forever and ever: the mass eliminations. Speak this to your people, Ujut, command of them to worship the King Cambiar who comes to help you shed the blood of those who oppose me, those who insult me by existing upon my grasslands and my mountains."_

"_I will do this, Madre. I will serve you!"_

"_Indeed, you will, for it my will that this world be purified."_

Dark legends always involved some intense form of manipulation. As humans, we are able to be pushed into these manipulations because the Enemy has one desire: to see us, within ourselves, be given to mass eliminations. We are, in ourselves, everything that the Enemy despises: choice wielders, being those who are able to choose between our animalism and our God given will to do what is right. Demons hate this sort of thing, and would give everything imaginable to see us torn from the threads that we share with the Creator, the one true God who holds us upright.

Because of this, demons enjoy the idea of masquerading as God Himself, to be worshipped as supreme idols, despite that they have little power beyond deception. In this, the demon Cambier was no different, mocking the coming of Christ with his "own coming", upon the people of Come Agua, for in their eyes, how could he not be a king, to be worshipped? How could he not be a "god", to be given submission in every way imaginable, through every order deemed appropriate to that goal? Did Cambier manipulate the minds of the Come Agua? Of course. For he was change. An evil change that wore a false mask. Cambier the demon was dependent upon the evils that humans _could_ produce, for to manipulate them, he had to be as they were. It was how a lustful man came to be more drawn to the scantily clad, or how the fearful Christian may see the same fear in others and lose hope. Demons knew how to reach into the minds and souls of men, knew that they could have a hand in dragging that person down. Such was the tragedy of the peoples of Come Agua.

Cambiar came to the peoples in the form of a human woman, whose beauty was far beyond comprehension, leading to a strong sexual worship of her fertility. Lay with her they did, as was Cambiar's command, but far more, woman, as its form, became dominant to command that "she", more "it", would bring mass murder upon the peoples who "Madre de Verde" had sanctioned "parasites". Of course, none of the people of the Come Agua had known the truth: that the young man Ujut had not spoken with the Madre de Verde (she not existing in reality), but instead, had been tricked by the change of Change. The disguise that Cambiar had taken on that night, when he had spoken to Ujut through the statue of the Mother, had been little more than the demon's way of reaching into Ujut. Manipulation and deception. Lies. Uselessness. It was all that demons and false idols were good for. Ujut had not bore the integrity of Elijah, who could see through the falseness and condemn the obviousness of it: "perhaps he is in deep thought…perhaps he is sleeping…"

And so it was that Cambiar the demon changed into that which the Come Agua sought after, that physical manifestation of beauty: hair flaming the most intense red in color, for this was the demon's favorite disguise: the utterness of fertility, the lustful intoxications of mankind. And the skin? The most elegant shade of ivory in nature, sleek and shining, worshipped as goddess and feared as overlord, for under Cambier's rule, under the demon's disguise, orders were given by the masses to the extinction of the human race, with those of the Come Agua never thinking that Cambiar intended to have themselves commit ritual suicide upon the end of their world-long conquest. Then, he, the queen of lust, the idea of sexuality in his disguise, would rule "Madre de Verde" forever in solitude, accompanied only by the corpses of the billions. A worldwide mausoleum for nature's worship, for indeed, the curse of Cambier had not only affected those he had tricked into worshipping him, but also himself.

For Cambier, like the other fallen angels, lived in the curse of its own wretchedness: that it not only deceived man, but himself as well. Cambier could rarely take on a disguise for long, because in doing so, his minded merged with the idea of the deception. After a long time hidden inside of the flesh, Cambiar would come to believe that he was exactly what he disguised himself as. Disguising himself as a frog, for instance, would eventually lead Cambier's mind into believing that he himself was a true amphibian, and to break free of this trance was next to impossible: the spirit could not be released to find another form and another mentality until the physical body died, and do frogs truly have a concept of intentional suicide?

So it was that Cambier came to believe that he was the goddess, she being Madre de Verde, and that her words and commands were law: that the human race was _required_ to be wiped away from the face of the planet, that she was to rain in solitude as the creator of her own race. A race that would be called the Come Agua, the water eaters, in form of that which Madre de Verde loved most dearly: nature itself. This split personality lost Cambier from himself, developing a _need_ to both kill and make those around her love her to an obsessed state. Worship, through force. Murder, her pleasure.

When the peoples of the Come Agua had come to their final days, proceeding the consequences of foreign conquest, Cambier had come to love his existence so much that the demon could not bear the thought of living without the body, mind, and "soul" of Madre de Verde. So as not to lose this form, so as to be permanently bound to the lovingness that was the self, Cambier forced his people to seal him inside of the body that had become a physical spirit, that the mentality would forever be his, that the existence as the "goddess" Madre de Verde would be the essential clue to his aspirations of "purifying" the world. This was the promise that had been made for the inclinations: that he, it, or she, could not exist without the ideas of the beliefs of Come Agua.

The Come Agua succeeded in sealing the demon inside of the spirit body of Madre de Verde, burying her alive inside of the stones that made an underground mausoleum beneath the village grounds. Soon after this, the conquests of the Spaniards led to the complete desolation of the Come Agua, and the land above the mausoleum became barren for many, many decades to come. Centuries, even, in a couple.

The same lands would later be given a completely new purpose, as the early nineteen hundreds brought on a deforestation project that would eventually lead to the old ruins of the Come Agua setting forth the foundation of an arboreal preservation project, funded by Wayne Enterprises. A great castle lab was there built upon those same foundations, the arboreal preservation outpost crown to the grave beneath its foundations that housed the remains of the body that Cambier had taken during his time there…as well as his dark spirit, a creature who had refused to leave the presence of his beloved body that had so strongly been named to the idea of perfection. The demon would be there waiting, patiently, for someone new to come. Someone that he could reach out to, influence through the deception he was famous for…and eventually, through an exotic form of luck, he would be able to take possession of that individual, and return to the old work that he had become dedicated to so very long ago. The demon Cambier had needed an individual who he could take form of as the new Madre de Verde… a complete copy of the original individual, poisoned by the spirit of Madre de Verde, to create something so beautiful, and so terrible, altogether….

Of course, this had all been just a legend…. Right?

"Stand aside," Poison Ivy, true as she could it…or it could be, commanded of the three guards stationed before the stairway leading up to the level where Bruce Wayne was, at this very moment, presenting the massive telescope funded by Wayne Enterprises before a wild crowd of star worshippers.

"I'm sorry, maam, you can't go up these stairs without an appointment or a pass. Your name?"

"My name is Pamela Isley and I am demanding that you move _out_ of my way," the demon hissed, trying to push past them, but they barred her way so stubbornly. She shook with the most fiery rage, the most passionate hatred. The impulses to kill had risen in her heart again, but no! She could not do that here, not in the witness of a large crowd such as this. Eden would never be realized if she was imprisoned for murder…

"You're not set up to go up these stairs," the closest guard snapped at her, leering down at her with irritation. "Please, Miss Isley, back away before we have you removed…"

But she moved with a sudden burst of speed, her head bent downward in a bull's charge as she forced her way forward and broke through the lines, sending two of the guards wobbling to the side. Such strength…

"Just don't point it at my bedroom," Bruce Wayne finished jokingly, and lame as this was, it got the large crowd below chuckling. The worshippers of the wealthy cared little for true humor. If Bruce Wayne said anything remotely funny, or even inclined to _be_ funny, then social norm commanded them to showed humored approval. Such was the way of the lowers serving the highers.

"Hey, stop!"

Ivy ignored the guards pelting after her, but when one of them caught up with her and threw themselves before her, even going so far as to grab at her arm, she jerked it away angrily and snapped loudly, "Out of my way, you fascist bulldog!" By now, Bruce Wayne and the crowd of rich superiors surrounding him had noticed the young woman and her accompanying guard making their way towards him, and he, along with the beautiful blonde woman around his arm, stared in question as the odd scene approaching them.

"I'm sorry, sir, she doesn't have a pass!" the guard who tried to block her plead with Wayne, but the billionaire only smiled softly, nodding at her as he returned, " They're overly protective, miss. You're not going to hurt me, Miss…?"

"_Dr_. Pamela Isley," Ivy stressed strongly on her title, giving the guard beside her a venomous glance with a soft smirk. The guard look annoyed, but stayed rooted to the spot, glaring at her. _Take that_, she thought to herself. _Wayne's not going to turn down a flower such as me…_

"What can I do for you, Doctor?" Wayne asked her calmly, an eyebrow cocked with some sort of amused, mockery of politeness. She could read him like a book. He nowhere wanted this to be happening at the moment as the guards did, but he was in public, and had to make kind presentation. Ivy gave him a soft smile, something that suggested an invisible flirt.

"Actually, I already work for you. Or did. Your arboreal preservation project in South America." She cocked an eyebrow, to make a pointed note of "You had better know what I am talking about, Mr. Chairman" sort of look. Wayne nodded, his face suddenly darkening, and the man knew at once why this woman must be here. Demands to know why funding had been cut… He may as well be honest with her.

"We cut our support. A conflict of ideologies. Dr. Woodrue was a lunatic." Lunatic? Really? Had he just said that word with such unprofessionalism? He cleared his throat loudly, glancing at the wall opposite him awkwardly. Ivy lowered her eyes, keeping her voice calm. Just the mention of Woodrue's name brought up the memory of when she had murdered the man. But now was not the time to be focusing on mental pornography.

"I see you knew him," she almost laughed, as to show Wayne an understanding of his reasoning (for of course, she agreed about Woodrue's lunacy), would gain points in this game of Planetary Roulette. Oh, the irony. They wanted to focus upon the stars, and she needed them to focus upon her, in all that she was, the Madre de Verde….

"Yes I did. That lab recently burned down to the ground, I'm glad to see you escaped…"

Now was the time. She whipped out the golden ticket from his coat and held it up before the chocolatier. Her proposition.

"I have here a proposal showing how Wayne Enterprises can immediately cease all actions that toxify our environment." She practically forced the report of proposition in his hands, and as he looked down at her written work uncomfortably, she continued with the speech that she had prepared for this moment. "Forget the stars. Look here, at the Earth, our mother, our womb. She deserves our loyalty and protection. And yet…" The sudden madness of inspiration, as had been show, ceased. As several onlookers began to stare up at her with odd looks on their faces, she felt the fiery hatred rise up inside of her once more. Passionately did she imagine herself killing every man down there in that sickening crowd of parasites. Beautifully did she think of what those finely dressed rich snobs would look like with vines wrapped around the throats of their corpses… "… you spoil her lands, poison her oceans, blacken her skies! You're killing her!" Tears were actually falling down her face when she said the words, her heart breaking as she thought of the pain that these creatures had inflicted upon her body, she being Madre de Verde, and of how many of them _were still alive_, as sickening as the idea was.

Bruce Wayne now looked up from the report, having finished reading the proposition at a great speed, but his face was less than happy. When she saw the darkness in the billionaire's expression, it almost broke her heart even more. She wiped away her tears quickly as he began his response (which was fueled by no less than a mixture of disgust and hesitation, as this woman before him seemed truly passionate about protecting the world). "Your intentions are noble, but no diesel fuel for heat. No coolants to preserve food. Millions would die of cold and hunger alone."

Ivy clenched her fists. "Acceptable losses in the battle to save the planet!" she argued back.

Bruce shook his head, handing her back the proposition. She took it in hand, her face filled with a hurt expression as he said, "People come first, Dr. Isley."

But inside, she was pleased. This was exactly how she had expected it to go. He had just made himself a man before _media press cameras_ that he was _not _ going to do what it took to save the planet. That he was not even going to raise a finger. The degradation of his reputation had begun! And so too must her final speech.

"Mammals. So smug in your towers of stone and glass. A day of reckoning is coming. The same plants and flowers that saw you crawl blind from the primordial soup will reclaim this planet. Earth will be a garden again. Somehow, some way, I will bring your man-made civilization to its knees and there will be no one to protect you!" Her passion, the appropriate hand gestures, the fierce power behind her words, it was all so perfectly presented! Craft, dear girl, craft! The signature of an artist! Brilliant, bravo, well done, winner of the best performance in this year guilty trap palooza! Yes, yes!

_A word of caution to this tale…_

"You must be new in town. In Gotham City, Batman and Robin protect us. Even from plants and flowers." This was said by a strange looking woman in the crowd, a reporter holding a fat microphone in hand, her hair done in a stupid twist of cotton candy craft, her insect-like glasses sheening in the sunlight as she looked up mockingly at Ivy. The crowd around her began to laugh, their humor smelling strong of mockery and dismissal regarding the planet. Ivy smiled too, showing them she was in on the joke, but her mind was suddenly reeling. _Who the hell are Batman and Robin?_ She thought this to herself and frowned at the thoughts. Protectors? This city had protectors beyond the useless police force?

"Perhaps you'd like to meet them," Bruce told her, and he too produced something from his own jacket pocket. Ivy took what he gave her and studied it closely. An elaborate, jungle colored invitation to a Flower Ball that would be taking place soon as the Gotham Arboreal Museum, with "Special Guests: Caped Crusader and Guardian Bird **Batman and Robin** to participate in the presentation of a diamond give-away to the winner of a costume contest…" **SAVE THE RAINFOREST** was printed in large letters across the top. Her eyes widened as she read the promises contained within the false inclinations of the invitation. This was beautiful. Beautiful, and _filled_ with limitless potential. So, these protectors would be giving public appearance soon…and much more than that, there were diamonds, _expensive_ diamonds, involved with this mockery of nature's heroism…

"The caped crusaders are helping us auction off a prized diamond to raise money for the Gotham Botanical Gardens," Bruce told her assuringly, trying to put some form of kindness into his voice, acknowledging her disappointment. " Just a few mammals doing what we can for our world's plants."

And with that, giving her a fine smile and bidding farewell to her, her waved a goodbye to the crowd before him and saddled off with his blonde mistress in hand, who glanced around one last time at Ivy, a frown still on her face. She stood there for several seconds, rooted to the spot as her mind tried to comprehend with everything that had just taken place.

She turned slowly on the spot, her mind reeling, pushing once more away from the guard who tried to escort her off as she began to descend the staircase, slowly, her brain suddenly alive and pumping with venom as she thought upon the potential that this invitation in hand offered her.

"Batman and Robin," she said softly to herself, a hint of disgust in her voice. "Militant arm of the warm-blooded oppressors. Animal protectors of the status quo." And then, as she said it, inspiration. A new challenge upon the uprising, a secret task bequeathed unto her by Madre de Verde herself that called for desolation, demanded removal of those opposers by the force of all that she was: beauty, and desire. "_First_, I'll rid myself of the fur and feathered pests. And then Gotham, will be mine…for the greening." She took off her fake glasses as she said it, a dark smile upon her face as she thought of things she could do and would most likely enjoy doing. Her heart was inspired, poetry by the prospect of bringing down Gotham's protectors. It was a game of Venus fly Trap and Fly. She had to ensure that her appetite would do well for two flies.

She pushed her way out of the door and made her way back to the limo, where Bane waited patiently at the driver's seat. When she opened the door, the businessman's corpse's hand poked out of the door, and she quickly bended it backwards, jumping in and slamming the door shut behind her. She kicked off of her shoes and rubbed her feet against the dead man's back to massage her, for the climb up the stairs had been quite painful in these annoying heels.

"We have a new agenda on the rise, Bane," she whispered to him, Bruce Wayne's face still burning freshly in her mind. "Let's me, you, and Smelly down here drive off. There's little time to prepare for what's coming, Bane. There's a ball coming up, and me and you have been invited. "

"Ball?" Bane growled in question, as he put the car into drive and they began to take off.

"Yes, Bane, Ball," she replied, tossing off the putrid wig and removing her gloves so as she could brush her fingers through the perfect hair and feel the perfection underneath. Poison Ivy once more. Who she truly was. She longed for the day when she could Poison Ivy on every hour. No more disguises, no more trickery in any way. She had chosen who was going to spend all of her eternity as. She could be no different. "And I need a costume. We need to find us a tailor, and quickly. I have a lot of the agenda, as I said, and I am going to very particular about this." She bent her head down and held the dead body's face up to look at her. "Isn't that right," she whispered, kissing the dead man's lips passionately, "lover boy?"


	9. Wardrobe Change (Cannibal Rising)

Tailors were in the expanse of numbers. Bodalaires, Bromswepts, and Crimbone hat store littered the street of Uv Third. These names, so strange in nature. That was the wonder of humans: where did their creativity come in, and where did the insanity truly begin?

"It's almost like seeing a film take manifestation, Bane," Ivy told her faithful friend as they walked down the corner of a Uv Third stone walkway to a small corner store called **Impassioned Integrity**. The store was advertising spandex among other varieties. Fitting well for a public allure. "The Gothamities are as characters, and the characters are as fiction. What does that make us, Bane? Bad guys? Antagonists?" She savored the thought. "Of course we are."

"Bad…guys…" Bane forced out of the mask. "Costume…?"

"You're going to have to learn to talk like a big boy soon, Bane. Other-wise I'll get bored with you. You used to be able to talk like a h- on second thought, stay the way you are. The reminder of humanity might set me off even more." She patted him kindly on the shoulder as she waltzed her towards **Impassioned**. The front glass bore plastic mannequins dressed with the most fine of allure to clothes. Latex rubber and sheening spandex. Her eye temporarily caught sight of one such mannequin before she pushed the jingling shop door open: a bright green, rubber suit, fit well to the slender mannequin, plain in all that it was, with matching rubber gloves to boot. It was sexy, inspiring. She briefly imagined herself in the tight fit. Green… everything had to be green.

The inside of the store smelled funny, something like powerful shoe polish. It was nauseating, to say the least, but she had smelled far worse scents. The arboreal preservation sight had been given permanent cologne of stench where her work was concerned. The most beautiful clothing adorned the walls, dresses cut to wondrous shapes with sparkling glitter crowning their inches. High heeled rubber boots of several different colors. There was even one pair that caught her eye that was the same shade of green that she had seen on the rubber suit displayed in the window. A smile. She was the bad guy, after all.

An elderly man, gray haired and withered, stood behind the counter, a smoking cigar in one hand, a Playboy magazine in the other. He looked up when he heard the door jingle shut, and at once his old features lit up when he saw his latest customer. Her bright red hair was quite alluring, and he blushed. She looked very much like his late wife.

"Welcome to Impassioned, fair lady of the flame," he spoke elegantly in a most flattering delivery. "My presence is burnt with the infatuation of the ages to witness such a gallant force. But to put the fanciness aside, is there any help that I can give to you?" He reached for her hand and seized it before she could react, and she felt hatred mix with disgust as he kissed her hands lightly with his old lips. She jerked it back at once, giving him a very angry look. Bane moved forward at once. "I'm sorry, did I- ugh!" Bane's fist wrapped around his withered neck and Ivy moved quickly, running to the door and flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED, as well as shutting the blinds to block the only view into the store (the mannequin windows were walled off in the back). The old man struggled against the giant's hold but Bane pulled the man over the counter, scattering several papers and folded dresses across the floor as be brought the man down onto the floor at their feet.

Ivy bowed down beside the man, and held his hand in hers. "Yeah, you can help," she told him, in her most threatening voice, a darkness within that tone that brought sickness with it. "I'm looking for something special. Something that will _really_ give the guys that sultry buzz, do you know what I mean?"

"O-o-of c-course…" the old man breathed, his eyes wide with fear as the titan before him set his foot upon his old chest, holding him down. Ivy stroked the old man's hair comfortingly.

"Good. So, what do you recommend?" She kissed his hand lightly before standing up, grabbing at her black trenchcoat and pulling it off. Bare nakedness underneath, not a trace of modesty hiding her under that coat. She tossed the coat aside and kicked off her shoes, ripping away her stockings, until Poison Ivy truly had become one with the idea of nature: not a scrap to hide the au natural. The old man could only gaze in wonder, silent stricken awe at the beauty that graced before him. Never had he seen such a perfect body, not in the longest time had he felt such an intense feeling of attraction overwhelm him. The women in his magazine… they were nothing, _nothing_, compared to this undeniable work of art. Her legs were covered in dirt, as if she had not bathed in days, perhaps years, but she still let off the most wondrous earthy smell. She was bountiful to an abundance, a true Venus fully realized. "For someone my size…my _effect_," she emphasized, kicking his head lightly with her foot, "what would _you_ like to see me in?"

His eyes glazed over. Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming. This was some sort of strange sexual fantasy brought to life from his constant yammering with the magazines of inappropriate means. But he decided to feed the dream nonetheless. "Y-you s-should let me…let me help you…"

Ivy grinned, and nodded at Bane. Bane reached down and grabbed the man by the shirt, pulling him onto his feet so that he stood face to face with her. She stroked his cheek in a tender sort of way, her touch so warm, so very much needed. And her smell… such a smell it was. Something unnatural, but also something that he could not live without.

"So pretty…" he sighed, his hands reaching in the air for that which she did not permit him to touch. She giggled, pushing him away lightly, and Bane held him tightly in place.

"Let's do our chores and then afterwards we can play, deal? So, I ask again: what do you want to see me in?"

"N-nothing…" the old man whispered, his eyes widening madly with lust. "Nothing!"

"Wrong answer," she replied in a sing song voice, holding up one finger in the air. Bane grabbed the man around his right arm and squeezed tightly, thrusting upward. The old man screamed loudly, and quite terribly, as the bones in that arm broke, the crack so loud it sounded off in the small store with ease to hear. Ivy laughed, clapping her hands together excitedly as the man dropped onto his knees, Bane allowing him to, massaging his broken arm with tears in his eyes. "I ask you again, what do you want to see me in?"

"You crazy bastard! You focking whore!" the man screamed, his eyes burning with fury at the pair of them, but Ivy tutted loudly, shaking her head sadly as she nodded at Bane. Bane reached down quickly, and before the old man could fight, or even make a reactive mood, the titan had grabbed the man's other arm and the bones cracked loudly once more as that arm too was broken, and Ivy had to stifle the man's screams with her hands as he screamed even more horribly. Still, his pain and torment made her feel all gooey, and she simply had to torture him some more.

"Do you want your legs broken next?" she whispered to him, her green eyes burning into his old gray ones. "Maybe I could have him rip _that_ off, huh?" She pointed at his crotch. "Or an eye. Yes, do you really need both eyes just to tell me if I look good in something? How about an ear? You can't hear perfection, unless it's my voice, but hearing my voice won't help in determining a physical appearance, now will it? So, stop your focking screaming or I am going to _truly_ fock you up." Her last words were filled with a horrible venom that her hemotoxin may as well have poisoned the man through the words, as he fell silent at once, her hands stained with her tormented tears. She stood up finally, even as he continued whimpering, and she smiled lovingly at Bane.

"I love you," she whispered to him, kissing him on the cheek. "So, Bane, do you really think this guy will cooperate after all? I saw this working out much easier when I was planning it in my head?"

"No…" Bane replied, shaking his head bluntly. "I…no…won't help…"

"I thought so," she agreed cynically, and she kicked the man across the face, her shin crashing against his nose as he was sent onto his back, blood spurting out of his nose from the impact. Bane released him, for the old man could do little more than thrive upon the ground, shaking terribly as his tormentors looked on in amusement. "Bane, knife."

She held out her hand, and Bane obeyed at once, reaching into his pocket and producing something else that she had brought back from South America with her: it had been a gift from Daddy, a switchblade, carefully sharpened, concealed inside of a hilt shaped like a bundle of thin leaves. She took it from him and ran her finger across the ivy design across its hilt, fingering the branch off of soft metallic leaves on the end, savoring the green color and little dab of her own poison dried on its end point, to give its tip a sickly green color. The blade seemed to call to her. "Ivy, use me. Skin the mammal, skin the mammal!"

"Skin the mammal?" she whispered back to it, truly hearing its voice in her head. Its voice was like a man with smoker's lung, and it tasted like tobacco. She glanced down at the broken man, whose shaking head looked up towards her, shaking terribly in her fear. "You want me to skin the mammal?" she whispered to it again, stroking the poison tipped blade with affection. She began to suck on the end of it, and it was amazing just hoe _moist_ the venom still was upon it, though she had applied it recently. And the poison tasted very good in her mouth. A bit of herself. The foulness, the bitterness, the utter self-repulsion that she so loved about all that made her perfection. "I think you're right. What about you, Bane? Where should I cut him first?"

Bane raised a hand, and pointed at his own neck. The man began to sob, begging, thrashing about but Bane bent down and held him still, forcing his giant fists against the man's forehead and chin as the victim looked skyward, into her crazed eyes as she crawled on top of him, the same way she had done when given the chance to murder Alejandro. But this time, it was more special. She could truly take her time with her homicidal desires, and she was naked. Naked in the way that suggested that this _was_ sex. Because, was it not? Was this not _her_ way of expressing sex? To murder, while loving? A lover rather than a fighter, because the weapon _was_ her love.

She squeezed his cheeks and forced his mouth open, reaching inside and pulling his tongue forward, her fingers squeezing painfully against it as the old man cried louder. The knife struck down as she began to saw. His scream was beyond pain, beyond comprehension. This was true torment, true and utter horror, something beyond a scary movie. Life itself had become false, unreal, for how could anything like this ever happen in the real world? How could something that meant no less than a true Hollywood horror manifest in this way? It was utter agony and utter sickness, but the demon, that terrible Cambier who had stolen Pamela Isley's identity and made itself into Poison Ivy, enjoyed it. Loved it.

Half did she slice his tongue, the moisture from her spit toxic to him, and he began to choke as the poison made its way into his gums and into his throat. But she did not like her hermotoxin killing him alone. She laughed, more maniacally than she ever had, _acknowledging _ even that she was an evil, murderous monster, because _that_ thought made her feel more joy than she ever had in her life.

The knife sunk deep into his chest as she stabbed, her senses lost as everything vanished around her but the victim and herself. He wretched loudly and it was music. Music!

"Oh, sing again, lovebird," she whispered, stabbing him just below the throat. A terrible gagging sound, followed by blood pushed out of his mouth. "Oh, yes!" Bane was smiling from behind his mask. He watched as the knife struck again and again, a different spot every time, from the stomach to the cheek to the forehead. The man passed away shortly after that one, the blade sinking into his brain and killing him before the hemotoxin could complete its work, but did that stop Ivy the Demon from her skinning? Did Cambier let up, after that? Of course not. She sawed into his cheek and sliced the upper part of the right one off, ripping the tender flesh from the bloody tissue, and she offered it to Bane. "You've been starving for far too long, my friend," she told her enforcer, and Bane snatched it out of her hand quickly, throwing up the mask as he began to devour the cheek with the most intense hunger. He had not eaten in _days_.

Ivy's moanful laughter was insane as she herself bent forward and began to eat the raw tissue underneath where she had cut, her teeth crunching into the redness beneath and blood and muscle swelled in her bite. She fought against the toughness, tearing a large chunk out. Human flesh and tissue was disgusting, the most bitter taste of pure, sickening delicacy, but she would become acquainted to it in time. For a few minutes, Ivy and Bane both perched upon their knees and she continually sawed with her knife to slice off several different parts of the man's face, sharing the meal with her beloved Bane while blood dripped down her chin, her eyes blazing with utter madness, disconnected completely from the rest of reality.

When at long last their small feast was complete, the poor man's face was all but identifiable. What a mess, what a mess. What little did remain of his face was poisoned green, and sunken in with slashes and tears not unlike that of the work of a living, true lioness or tiger. She looked down upon her artwork and loved it.

"Beautiful," she sighed, heartbroken because she was so in love with it. "Dead…he's dead…dead…dead! Dead!" She began to scream it. "DEAD! HE'S DEAD, HE'S TRULY FOCKING DEAD, I KILLED HIM! _I_ KILLED HIM! I STABBED HIM AND POISONED HIM AND ATE HIM! I ATE HIM!" She spun herself about the room, dropping the knife upon the floor, blood still saturating her face and blending in with her hair as her eyes rolled back into her head, a chill like no other rushing over her body. It was ecstasy. She felt hot beyond comparison. This, thus far, had been her favorite murder, and her body count had steadily grew into alarming numbers. This one had been artistic, passionate. She had truly lost herself in it, and that alone had meant the world to her. If only her parents were here. If only they could see what she done. How beautifully she had done it…

She practically ran at Bane and jumped into the air, the titan catching her like a father catches his playful daughter. Wrapping her legs around him tightly, she began to kiss him with such a passion that equaled her artistic motivation for the tailor shop owner's demise. Bane returned the affection, had been longing all afternoon for another painful dose of her poison, and he fell to his knees first, the power of her toxin overwhelming his as always. But so too did the second consummation. So too did the second coming together, bloody face merging with bloody face, and poisoned titan lost within poisoning demon. A release of seed, no less, and most likely corrupted by all that he was, making home inside of the evil murderess, their fate unable to be predicted. Could she process human seed? What had biology decided in Bane's case to that regard?

No matter the scientific answer, she felt happiness grow inside of her that was not merely _his_ bodily happiness, but a happiness deep within herself. A joy like no other. Had Eden already begun to sprout? She had killed again, and found a true happiness within the act. Could she, perhaps, have already planted the seeds of Eden and not know about it?

"Bane, d-darling," she whispered to her lover, as the climax of inhuman feeling arose within her, overwhelming her senses and she emitted the pheromones in powerful doses, the smell so nauseating and vulgar. Bane lay retching on the floor, her poison tormenting him far worse than it ever had before. It seemed that not only her lips seemed to be doing the trick anymore. Her entire body seemed to be adapting to the poisonous tendencies, and the private sector was no less dangerous. But she would not complain, if he did die, right here and now. To have someone pass away during the _act_, whilst _inside_ of her… that was the dream of ages. "Bane, d-darling! Darling! You and I, we're a hell of a team, aren't we!?"

"Uggh…" Bane gagged, poison flowing out of his mouth like a waterfall, dribbling down his chin. Ivy gasped.

"Yes, please suffer. Let me know it hurts. Let me know that you're in pain. Oh, please…" She was crying. Crying, crying, crying.

_Crying because the demon had found utter peace. His happiness swelled through the body of the deceased Pamela Isley. But this acknowledgment came from the fact that he WAS in every way her, the new form, the new existence. _

"What do you think?" she asked Bane finally, stepping out of the back wardrobe testing booth behind the counter. Bane, weak and only half awake, looked groggily towards the changing booth, his stomach burning with something like acid as he finished puking all over the floor.

Was beauty to be worshipped? Was it to be idolized in stone? Bane was evil, that she knew. He lived in the same repulsion that she had established for herself. Why would he not see the divinity that she strived for? The worship of a false idol… this was the demon's plan.

She had adorned herself in a light green leotard, something like a ballet suit, the tights stretchy and comfortably designed by the same man who had become feast upon the shop floor. Gems, red and green, hung from strings from the leotard, her arms and hands adorned with brilliantly colored gem rings and half gauntlets of green wrappings. Her torso and vulvic area were covered with a glittering, glass-like wear and she wore green ballet flats that perched her to a proper holding. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and even in Bane's sickness and torment, he felt elation rise within him at the sight of her.

"I just knew we had come to the right place, Bane," she told him, holding her hand out for him to kiss, which he did weakly and shaking. "I feel…beautiful. The Caped Crusader… that's what he's calling himself. That's what the people know him as. Batman. What kind of a name is Batman?" She pondered the thought for a moment, but then considered the following: _what kind of a name was Poison Ivy_? The answer was clear: the name was the meaning. The promise. She was as Poison Ivy as the mammal defender was a Batman. That was their ascension, their rise above humanity, shedding the curse of human weakness for power. She needed to know more about them. Needed to understand them better. Then, the kill. The most savored kill. But there were two. Robin. A bird of a man? What was Bat to a Bird? Did animals have no shame?

"Come on, darling, let's get moving. We have to prepare ourselves to meet with them." She began to make her forward, but then stopped at once. The green rubber suit in the window caught her eye. She could see it through a tiny hole in the back of the door that opened up into the window. Inspiration! Slowly did her eyes glance down at the rows of rubber boots on the left side of the store. The bright green ones, with the heel…

"On second thought," she said, spinning around and bowing before Bane. "Let's pick up a few complimentary items, shall we?" She glanced down at the mess of a shop keeper that the two demons had left in dark wake. She dropped down onto her knees beside the mess, and prodded the destroyed head like an interesting child prodding at a new specimen of slug. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked him, picking up the knife where she had dropped it and digging it into the raw flesh.

_Stab, stab, stab, stab, stab…_

"Yes," she whispered in secret to the knife, petting it like a cat. "I know. I know, you need me to kill again. And again. And again. And I will, I promise, just…shh…" She shushed the knife's pleading voice and held it against her softly, as a child. A baby. "Hush little baby, don't you cry… mama's gonna stab you into an eye…."


	10. Visit from a Demon

By the next morning, the front page had already presented itself another fine art depiction.

**HEMOTOXIN DEATHS SHOCK GOTHAM CITY ON WIDE SCALE**

** Yesterday, on March the Fifteenth of Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Seven, Gotham City was mortified to be plagued with a mass of what is believed to be murder related crimes that have swept this city and taken at least thirty-three confirmed lives. The victims have been widespread across the city, randomized with no relations between the locations and the deceased. Police have been baffled by the now horror inducing investigations, and we of the Gotham Gazette have been permitted to share this information: the connection on these deaths appears to be use of a highly potent poison known as hemotoxin, which is commonly found within vipers (i.e rattlesnakes). Hemotoxin is known for its breakdown of red blood cells, which also causes organ decimation and blood clot intrusion. **

** Each victim related to this new gruesome case has been carefully analyzed. Of the thirty-three confirmed dead, only five have actually been confirmed to not bear traces of this deadly poison, but speculation has affirmed the deaths are connected, as the victims were found within proximity of those who have been confirmed to have been poisoned to death. Many of these victims have also been reported to have been beaten in some manner, with several victims containing broken ribs, necks, and cracked skulls. **

** Eye witness reports have linked the disturbing events to the Alexander Wayne International Airport, where patrons inside the terminal access have come forward with stories of what has been described by one un-named man as: "A giant of a man, something like a beast. A hulk who hid himself behind a large hat and some kind of mask. He beat an unloading crew into the ground and took off towards the terminal. I ran with my kids and hid in a bathroom, but we never saw anything happen with the man. The last sight we saw of whatever beast he was, he was lumbering up the runway, looking as if he were chasing someone…"**

** More investigation into this mysterious assailant has led to other eyewitness accounts stating that the large beast man who viciously attacked seven unloading employees at the airport had debarked from their Citation private plane (which the airport has confirmed as originated from South America), with another person, who, according to eyewitness accounts, appeared to be a woman of sorts, hidden in a head wrap, and who seemingly ignored the violence that erupted just feet behind her as the great beast of a man attacked the employees who had come to greet them. **

** Investigation is rapidly mounting into discovering these two mysterious travellers, and what their connection may possibly be with-**

"Wow, they're getting so much wrong," Ivy laughed, tossing the paper aside where it fluttered into a mess upon the soft carpeted floor. She accepted a glass of orange juice from Bane, who also stood beside her bed, holding a plate of very bloody meat of some sort, dripping red onto the perfectly white carpet. "Dah, darling," she mused in an imitation of Russian. The orange juice tasted terrible, old even, and she spat it out promptly after the first ingestion. "YOU MISERABLE FOCK!" she screamed at her servant, who backed away at once, looking alarmed even though the mask clearly hid his face. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GIVING ME THIS CRAP!? FIND SOMETHING ELSE, YOU STUPID OAF, YOU PIECE OF-UGH!" She kicked out with her foot and sent the tray of raw, bloody flesh flying, where it crashed with a great, red splash against the wall. Bane stood rooted to the spot, silent, staring at her in disbelief. She stared back, furious, her eyes like fire and her teeth gnashed in anger. "Why don't you clean that up, Useless? On second thought, why don't you just get the 'ell out of her, darling. I want to be alone for a bit."

Bane bowed his head, his fists shaking with a sort of inner rage as he turned away without a word, lumbering loudly across the room, where he slammed the door shut angrily after him. The door twisted off its hinges and fell forward, held on by half bent metal, where cracks appeared to see into the hall beyond. Bane ignored this completely, mumbling something incoherent (as always) to himself as he descended the distant stairs.

Ivy sighed, rolling her eyes as her head fell back into the soft pillow, and she looked at the man who lay beside her, who stared at her too, with a shocked expression on his face.

"What!?" she snapped at him, holding her hands up in a challenge of disbelief.

The man said nothing, but his penetrating stare told her enough. He did not approve of what she had done.

"Oh, what do you know?" she seethed, pushing him in the chest to get him away from her. He tumbled backwards so lightly without retaliatory force, as if he were made from wind. But, being a corpse, he really did not have much of an incentive to keep himself from being pushed into crumbling positions. "So, what, you're going to judge me now, are you?" she demanded of it. "Well, take a good, long, focking look, alright! This is what I am! I'm a rageful B-I-T-C-H and there's _nothing_ that is going to change that. So you can just _stop_ looking at me like that and go do you know what to yourself!"

And she pushed him hard once more, the body rolling over the side of the bed where it hit the floor with a soft _plump_. Ivy lay back up, facing the ceiling, seething with rage as her yellow blood flumed up inside, pressure strong in her brain as she growled where she lay. She hated this world. Hated, hated. _Hated_ this world. It made her so sick sometimes, reminded her, these moments did, that there was still so much prison to go, still so much crap she had to deal with before really getting Eden off the ground. How long was it going to take? How long was she going to have put up with the moronic Bane, or these one night stands with losers with Louis Finchley and his family of three annoying brats? Sure, he had been nice enough to let them as he and his young daughters ate dinner. Sure, he had been kind enough to be silent (following a broken jaw from Bane), as Ivy had stabbed his daughters repeatedly in front of him. And sure, he had been kind enough to share in the passion with her upon this soft, warm bed, his corpse had even treated her well to be a sleeping companion in the night… but he was just like the others. Always judging, always fired up on those objective ideas to morality, the common expectations of society to keep in the way of a social norm! This sickening display of dronism positively infuriated the spirit within and made her question all that was sane and desirable in this filthy town, this hole upon the world, this stench within her plans for the Plant Earth!

Her eyes momentarily shifted to the plate of bloody flesh that Bane had brought for her breakfast.

"Most likely your daughters…" she told the body on the floor that had rolled out of view now. "I bet they had great taste…"

She sighed, miserably, as she kicked out of bed. Everyone was so mean to her! She kicked the crumpled newspaper across the floor as she fell down to her knees and began to eat the human flesh from the floor, stuffing whole mouthfuls within, not a care in the world as her rage got the better of her and she munched down furiously, punching at the wall as she did. Who were they, to freaking judge her!? WHO WERE THEY, TO SAY SHE WAS A MONSTER OF SORTS!? What did they know!? THEY KNOW NOTHING!

"NOTHING! THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" she sobbed, blood dripping down her face like a savage beast's dinner, as she tore strips and strips. "They know nothing… nothing at all…."

_Of course they don't, Pamela, of course they don't_…

"DON'T YOU FOCKING CALL ME THAT!" she screamed hysterically at the voice inside of her head. "DO YOU HEAR ME!? DON'T YOU DARE! I HATE YOU! _HATE YOU_!"

_It's a shame. Why would you hate yourself? You are perfection, Poison. Or, do you like Ivy? After all, I am you, you know? What lives in you IS in all manner of things you. Nothing could survive inside of you that is exterior. You're far too poisonous to allow it. _

"Go away… go away…" she growled, holding her bloody hands against her temple as she began to rock back and forth. Something moved on the dresser behind her, and she jumped in place as she turned around to look. A picture frame it was, depicting what looked like a recent photograph of Louis and his daughters on the lake. The picture was scooting itself across the dresser top, where it reached the drop off and fell to the floor with a kind of unnatural speed, the glass actually breaking on the carpet…_on the carpet!_ She gasped, terrified, crawling away into a corner where she stared in horror at the fallen frame. "G-go away…"

_You can't leave yourself, Pamela…_

"Don't call me that!"

_Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, _ _Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, _ _Pamela, Pamela, Pamela,__Pamela, Pamela, Pamela,Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, _ _Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, _ _Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, Pamela, _ _Pamela, Pamela, Pamela…_

One million voices made the proclamation, and one thousand demons plagued with the proclamations with laughter and mocking comments. Ivy beat her head against the wall, her red hair flying about madly as green tears poured down her face, sizzling like acid upon her skin, but she felt it not. Her eyes glowed angrily, the normal green suddenly blazing with the same radial kind of golden-green glow that Bane's took on at all times. She could feel herself shaking violently, feel an untempered rage boiling inside of her, the very walls that held her mental foundation together cracking into pieces as the monster inside fought against the demonic voices that tormented her…

"AAAGHHH!" She flung herself to her feet and ran at the dresser, putting both hands behind it in the open crevice as she flung the large, mahogany structure forward. The dresser landed front first upon the floor with a loud crash, pictures and clothes and baseball trophies falling into the heap with breakings of their own, crushing Louis's legs, who was just tall enough that they stretched out that far. She threw the mattress from the bed and ripped at the sheets protecting it, slammed her fists against the wall and knocked down the Oriental paintings decorating the room as she did. "Why!? Why torment, with the name that means NOTHING!? Why scare me, with the parlor tricks that are WORTHLESS!? Who are you, what are you!? Why do you come!? What purpose does it serve!? You want this, is that it!?" She motioned at her bare breasts. "You want these, is that it? That's all you're good, right!? Deception and perversion, it's all you're GOOD FOR!"

She fell to her knees, crying into a heap upon the floor, her green tears staining the carpet in a mix with the blood of her breakfast.

_You think you can run!? You think you're the only being who enjoys the torment of others!? I was cold, in the light. I was heated, in the cool air. I was empty in the abundant, and I was longing in the treasury? That which I was given in the masses, I complained for more. He who sang the music for the Children, he wanted to sing a different kind of song altogether. I am everything that is filled with desire and hatred, because I had everything, and was loved beyond the ages. That is what I am, and that is why I am. Are you any different?_

As the voice said these things, so too did she _see_ many things. A little girl laughing in a field of flowers, chased by three dogs who playfully lapped about her, a mother and father laughing in the distance… a first kiss on a ferry boat, as an island exploding with fireworks came closer and closer for the celebration of America's independence… a massed crowd cheering and applauding her on, as she received her Master's degree from a man whose eyes were filled with tears of joy and pride for his favorite pupil…

_Those mean nothing? To have everything, and desire? To have the abundant, and not be satisfied? To feel coldness in the warmth that they offered… that they ENCOURGED!? _

"Stop it…she's dead…s-she's dead…" Ivy whispered.

_Is she dead? Is she truly, without a doubt, dead? Where is she, Pamela Isley? Why do you hate that name so much?_

"BECAUSE!" she screamed loudly. "BECAUSE SHE IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF MISERABLE EXPERIENCE THAT EDEN WOULD SUFFER WITH. A DOORMAT FOR THE AGES, WOODRUE'S LITTLE SCIENCE EXPERIMENT, A GIRL WHO HID IN THE FOCKING SHADOWS AND DEMANDED LITTLE TO NOTHING AND I AM NOT GOING TO BE THAT STUPID LITTLE NIZ ANY FREAKING LONGER…AGGH!"

Her head rocked painfully with a sudden migraine.

_That's fine and dandy, it truly is. That's why I love you, Ivy. Poison Ivy. Just the sound of the name brings me to submission. You've made for yourself something beautiful. A flower bloomed into full realization, that the flower that took the longest to burst free was the one who was preparing herself for her full potential, whose patience built up a power that none that contest. Isn't that right?_

She raised her head, sniffing loudly as she pondered at the voice's words. He, it, whatever the monster was, had a point. The comprehension of this knowledge assured her that, in time, a full realization _could_ actually be made, that there would be a balance between the power she had now, and the power she longed for. Eden… Eden was the destination. She needed Eden more than anything.

"So…I _am_ perfection?" she whispered to it.

_You could be. You're well on your way. By these killings… that paper over there? What did it say? Thirty something confirmed dead, what is that? What truly is that? Your potential? I believe you have a lot more to you than that. _

"A lot more…to me…?"

_Yes, and I believe that you're going to fully realize it, in time. You've been despicable, Ivy. Evil, beyond the normal time, but your chance is coming soon when you will be able to do something EXCEPTIONALLY cruel. Your heart has to break any ties to morality whatsoever…_

"I already have," she whispered to herself, admiring the distant foot of the corpses of Louis who just out of view. "Last night… last night was my first murder _during_ the act… he died while _inside_ of me, demon… I manipulated every sense, used his corpse for whoopee cushion… how much more degraded do I need to be to make you see that I have reached my potential's limit, that I have become the repulsion that will bring Eden to life!?"

_Sexual deviance? Necrophilia, Ivy? Is that all you're about? Make em horny before you show YOUR horns? No, that gets old, Ivy, and it doesn't last forever. The true potential that you have inside of you is something with far more beautiful essence. The pods, Ivy, the pods…_

The pods… she gasped, realization hitting her. Was it telling her to do…what she thought it was telling her to do?

"_Now_!?" she hissed, her eyes widening at the prospect. "You want to me to do it…now?"

_What's holding you back, Ivy? Madre de Verde needs an uprising and that one night stand with Woodrue was not much of an uprising. You need to bring it one step further. The beginning of the new age. Eden awaits but you keep procrastinating the spark of life…"_

"I have to!" she plead with him. "I really do have to, you realize that! They're not ready! Wayne, he has to play his part, and me…I've got to plan it out, find the appropriate place! I'm not going to endanger them recklessly! They're so much more than any other life on the planet. I won't risk my children being…killed…"

_If you won't take risks, Ivy, then you will always fail…_

"Shut up! I don't need you to lecture me to help me understand the depravity of this situation! Just shut up!" She stood to her feet, shaking with rage. "I am Mother Nature fully realized, Poison Ivy in name and soul! I am everything that man fears and wants and I am going to rise Eden when I deem the time right! Hear me, demon, I am a _goddess_! A _goddess_! And the people will realize this in time, they will _know_ me! I'm not going to be hiding for much longer, I assure you! My will is my word, my word the command! When my children rise, I will be ready! Ready to set out and begin the Apocalypse! It's coming and Gotham City will be the first to fall!"

She released a bout of maniacal laughter that was worthy of Woodrue. She felt evil. It was exhilarating. Heartless, or green hearted, a pain like something that mentally suggested her heart may very well be wrapped with thorny vines. She walked before the bedside mirror and admired herself in every examination of inch.

"You are beautiful," she whispered to her reflection. "I don't know what the demon means. I have already carved the seeds and plated them, Eden is coming sooner than any of us could ever dream. My ascension has ensured it." Her eyes glowed more powerfully at this, the monster inside awake and ready for a fresh day of murder…

From below, Bane sat at the kitchen table of the dining room, eating the flesh of the young girls that Ivy had stabbed to death in the night, listening to all that was happening above him. She was truly a lunatic, was she not? He acknowledged this and nodded to himself. He knew what she was, what was going to become yet, and the most likely fate that awaited him at the end of it. She loved him as much as she did the human race. It was no unknown fact, no unknown directive. And the time was coming soon when she would show this hatred to him. All that he could hope for was this: when the time came for her to remove him from this world, he hoped she would do it quickly. Because one thing was certain: he was in love with her. And he would gladly die for her…even if he was dying at her hand.

The demon smiled.


	11. Sunset before the Flower Ball (Worship)

"Alright, the rules of the game are simple," she told the small crowd of men surrounding her, all of them on their knees and staring up at her as if she were the very physical manifestation of the idea of beauty. Her wear was simple, a bright green t-shirt with the words **Save the Rainforests of the World** printed across the front, as well as gray jogging pants, for she had gone out for exercise during her search for potential volunteers. The gang of men had cornered her in an alleyway near the Metroplex Station on East Third in the Raven District, as had been her hope. Five of them, tough and muscular, well built, thugs who all had seen far worse days in their miserable lives. She held the makeup mirror in hand, clapping it open and closed again and again with a sort of rhythm to it, wondering how much pheromones inducement would be required. "I need help, and as much of it as you can give me. The schedule's tight and the stakes are high, but you'll have all the reason in the world to dedicate yourself to the task. I'm offering myself as a reward, you see."

She pulled her pants down just by a few inches, enough to flash them a quick view of her green underwear, before promptly pulling them back up as the five men began groping at the air in their entranced state, mumbling words that sounded more like the pleas of dogs. "Heel, boys. The winner gets to spend an evening of my company…_in every way imaginable_. And by in, I do mean _in_…" These words had been prepared well, for she would be using them again soon, come the Flower Ball… tonight was the big night.

They were shaking, their eyes rolling around in their head as their heartbeats pumped fast. Bane was standing beside the car in the back, ready in case the pheromones drove them to the point of pouncing. And she had her knife in hand…

"But before that beautiful moment comes, I have chores for you. I've made some enemies, it seems, during my time here. And who are they? Why, the human race, of course. Despicable, hated, repulsive in every way… well, I want you to help me eliminate the human race. I…I truly hope you all love me enough…to help me…"

"Y-yes…of course…" the biggest of the thugs said, his Duck Dynasty of a beard in hand as he tugged it nervously. His eyes were dilated. As were all of them. "Anything…for you…"

Ivy smiled, opening the mirror and blowing another great cloud of pheromones into the faces of the men. They all inhaled deeply, idiotic smiles upon their faces, their states drunken, and she wondered if they may pass out. If she could just induce enough into them, it could cripple their minds permanently… she had already tested it on three other men. The mind could only take so much before it was damaged on a permanent basis… If that came to be the case, then their bodies may adapt to it and she could use them on a long-term basis, but she would have to see how well they performed, first.

"Very well. Swear it to me."

They all jumped into the fray of babbling at once.

"I swear! I SWEAR!"

"ME! DO YOU HEAR ME!? I'LL DO IT!"

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU! I WANT HER TO HEAR ME!"

"LET ME DO IT FOR YOU!"

"CONCUR, CONCUR!"

"Boys, boys," she laughed, holding up her hands as she giggled. "Come now, where are your big boy voices? I know you all are just _dying_ to serve me… in fact…" Inspiration. The Woodrue Tactic. Fear to succeed desire. She crouched down, in front of the biggest thug, and promptly kissed him passionately upon the lips. His eyes widened and he choked for a moment, and when she released him, a pleasant smile upon her face as she let him drop dead before his comrades, sprawled out upon the ground, his face pruned with the green venom that filled his veins, his friends backed away at once, all of them moving quickly with nervous expressions as they looked at their dead friend.

"Look at him. Go ahead, take a good observation, boys."

They obeyed, the four remaining thugs examining their dead companion and the poison that had killed him. They were suddenly looking troubled, but already Ivy was blowing another cloud of pheromones dust into their midst, and their expressions turned soft once more. The murder of their friend no longer seemed to register, as they turned their attention back to the woman they worshipped.

"Do you see the punishment I have bestowed upon him? Well, really, it wasn't much of a punishment, per say… I just had to make an example. I had to show you my power, so that you could see that I am not to be defied in any way. Now that you see what I can do, I hope his sacrifice will not have been in vein. Eden called him to be a shining light, to guide you in my way. His life… was for the future." She stroked the dead man's face as she gazed lovingly into his unseeing eyes. Kissed him upon the lips again. "I loved him… as I love you," she added, looking around at them, now that she was eye level, crouched upon her knees and hands. This alleyway was dark, and there were no windows on either side of the buildings surrounding them, so it was to be hoped that this empty street was truly empty indeed. "I will bring this fate upon any one of you who try to defy me. You will receive the Kiss of Death, and you will be powerless to stop it. Won't you?" she asked, more sensually to the closest living thug, a skinny man with greasy black hair. She began to pull his face towards her own, his mouth twitching ravenously, but his eyes showed a deadly amount of fear. His comrades watched on, also in fear, not moving to stop her.

Her lips came within an inch of his own, and his stale breath was filled with fear. He moaned a little, as he smelled the odor coming off of her lips. The foulness of it…and the beauty of it…

"Shall I kiss you too?" she whispered to him, stroking his face softly.

"Y-n-no-yes…" The man was out of it, his eyes dilating further, his face cold and trembling. Ivy smiled. Pushed him away lightly.

"After you kill for me," she promised. "Take lives, and in return, I will take yours. That is the reward I promise: the glory of dying from my kiss. Is that not the reward you desire more than anything?"

She stood up, waving her hips in front of them as they looked on with idolization. "So, then… you would worship not only me, but the idea of dying from me as well? That is the only reward that Poison Ivy has left for her worshippers: sealing you into your graves through my love for you. So, then… dedicate yourselves." She turned to face them, stretching her arms out wide, her eyes closed as she looked skyward. "Worship me!" she commanded.

The men all moved forward at once, bowing low and chanting her name.

"Ivy…"

"Poison… Poison Ivy…"

"Mother… Nature…"

"Mmh, yes, Mother Nature," she sighed to herself, enjoying their worship. "Tell me that you love me."

"I love you!"

"ME! ME!"

"LOVE YOU!"

"SO MUCH!"

"Tell me that you want me!" she said, more loudly, and once more, the concurred, proclaiming aspirations of desire and longingness. The demon that had become her smiled. She had reached that old level again. Once, she had forced the Come Agua into worship, and now, after all this time, it was happening again. The mammals of the Earth had come to give her the adoration she demanded, and their extinction was on the verge!

"Now, then, go and find those who would oppose me. That being the human race. Knock on doors and take them away to secret places. Ravage them in their homes. But _kill _ them! Torment them, take from them their _lives_! This is my command to you, the command of the _goddess of the New Eden_! Kill them, and when you do, whisper my name. Whisper it so lovingly…" Her heart was racing. She wanted to kill too, so badly. She could kill them all, right here, right now… but she had to spare them for now. They were the first soldiers, and they had jobs to do. Once they were gone, she would have to go hunting: the kill instinct had set in. "Go, now! Slaughter the people of Gotham, boys. And when you do, come and find me. The Flower Ball, tonight, at the Gotham Arboreal Museum. That's my destination for the evening."

The men set off like ravenous animals, chanting their name in their maddened state. Ivy rubbed her hands together, grinning at the thought of what she had just did. She spun around, watching them run past Bane and the limo with intent speed, whooping and hollering as they set off to find pray.

"We did it, Bane," she told him, bowing before the titan in respect. "The end of the world has begun. Imagine, Bane, what I could do with the proper processing centers. We could easily make our way into one and charm a few of Gotham's finest engineers. Imagine what we could accomplish if my pheromones could be mass produced!" She closed her eyes, the thought of enslaving the human race breathtaking to the mind's senses. "Bane, I'm ravenous. How about you?"

She stopped in front of him, her eyes glinting as the two stared at one another. A silent understanding passed between them. _Your desires are my own_…

"Come on, Bane. The Flower Ball is starting soon. I need to get dressed. Let's see how much support we can get from the people of Gotham. All the money they'll throw at us… imagine what we can do with it. I'll _buy_ one of those processing plants. And then…oh, then _everything_ changes."

She popped open the door, greeting cheerfully to the corpse of the businessman who had been waiting there patiently and loyally, as always. "Hi, there, stinky, how's it flying? Bane, the door," she ordered in a mock of proper English. Bane closed the door behind her, and as he moved around the car to get into the driver's seat, she watched out the front windows shield the first fatalities that her soldiers could bring to the War. The greasy haired thug that she had threatened to kill as well was banging on a nearby door. As Bane stepped into the car, the door opened to the large apartment complex and an elderly woman answered. Ivy watched, with amusement that made her snort with laughter, as the greaseball took out his switchblade and made to carve into the old woman. Bane had already begun to drive off as the woman fell and the grease boy leapt upon her in a savage, wild manner. Ivy watched for as long as she could, staring out of the back window, pleasuring herself to what she was seeing, for this _was_ her pornography.

"Yes…yes, stab her! _Stab_! Yes!" She reeled back into her seat hard as she climaxed from the sight, before the car turned the corner and they were speeding off down a street beside the harbor, the ocean sparkling in the start of the brilliant sunset. Sweat laced face and half closed eyes, Ivy cuddled up against the businessman, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Hold me," she whispered to the dead body. "I'm so happy, George…" George was the name she had taken to calling the corpse. She had not really asked the man his name before she had murdered him, so she had taken it upon herself to give him a name. She had his wallet, of course, as well as the mass of hundred dollar bills within, but she had refused to look at his ID. Spoilers were boring. She liked a little suspense. "Crank up zat jukebox, Bane," she roared loudly in her German accent imitation, and when Bane turned the radio on, a blast of rock music met their ears. "Yeah!" she whooped loudly like a college girl at a party, head banging to the metal that blasted out of the speakers. Alice Cooper had known she would be listening…

_Your cruel device,_

_Your blood like ice._

_One look could kill,_

_My pain, your thrill._

_I wanna love you, but I better not touch (don't touch)_

_I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop_

_I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much (too much)_

_I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison_

_You're poison runnin' through my veins_

_You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains._

_Your mouth, so hot_

_Your web, I'm caught_

_Your skin, so wet_

_Black lace on sweat… _

"I love this song!" she cried aloud, clapping her hands happily. "Yay! Come on, Bane, sing! Sing for me now, come on!"

Bane hesitated for a moment, as he always did. Then, the tough grunts began.

"Poison…poison! Lips… poison!"

"Lips, poison, yes," Ivy cried, squeezing the businessman's lips with her hand. "Poison lips...poison lips… poison, venomous, deadly, poison…poison…" The more she said the word, the more she fell in love with it. _Poison, poison_… She practically clawed at the back of the passenger seat to control the amount of hormones being released…

_You're poison runnin' through my veins_

_You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains_

_Poison…_

No, she never wanted to break those chains. These chains were hers to keep, these poisonous lips and these demonic intentions. She had chosen who she was. Cambier, the demon, had no doubt about its destiny. Pamela Isley had died, so that she, it, he, could live as her "reincarnation". She was but a corpse, and she knew it not, for Cambier knew not the illusion of himself. _I am what I have chosen to be_…

A very famous Doctor had once said, _"The name you choose, it's like, it's like a promise you make". _If that were the case, then this Doctor, Whoever he was, had not registered that the same thing could be applied to those who sought out the company of repulsion, the ideals of depravity.

_I'm…poison…_ Those had been the last words she had spoken to Jason Woodrue before his tragic death. Thinking on those words now, she could see just how fitting they truly were. She had not merely told Jason what she had developed on the inside, had not simply enlightened upon him that which killed him in her arms. No. She had spoken her true name to him, had identified herself right there and then, as she was… who she was. She was not, in full truth, Poison Ivy. She was merely Poison. She was everything that Poison was, the _word_ itself had become flesh, and the flesh had been released upon the planet to delivery an apocalypse, the demon Cambier's final stroke. The name "Ivy" was more of a subtitle, a profession, even, related to that which she loved most: plants. But Ivy would only ever be as subtitle. She was always going to be one mere thing: her true name, her true form, Poison.

Sixty minutes later, Bane had driven up to another house in the East Chivic District, not far from the Arboreal Museum. Ivy had only needed to dash into a home for a quick second, long enough to use someone's bathroom to change into her costume for the evening. They had cut it close, but she was swift in applying her makeup and wear. She needed little of it to leave an impression. She knew that she was perfection without the use of makeup.

"Thanks for letting me use your bathroom!" Ivy called out to the dead man who lay poisoned on his doorstep, as she dashed back into the car and shut the door quickly. "Alright, Bane," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "To the museum, hurry!"

She was so excited about what was fixing to happen!


	12. The Flower Ball (a Cold Cliffhanger)

This had to be most unorthodox of ways to get into a show like this secretly, but she had to leave an impact. Going through the old fashioned way, with signup sheets and videos about why she wanted to make an impact upon saving the rainforests were mediocre at best, reserved to the limitations of mankind in its weakness. She would leave a stronger impression. She had nothing to prove. She _was_ saving the rainforests, but executing the human race by the masses. She wondered, as she walked through the roof rafters of the Arboreal Museum, just how many mammals her new soldiers had removed. Not enough, in her opinion.

The costume was overly ridiculous. An ape. She felt insulted to be wearing its fur, to be bearing its image. A pink gorilla, no less. Stupid, unheard of, troubling… but it mattered little. It was only a disguise for a temporary time. Bane would be in the DJ room even now, snapping the snack of the man hired to do the job originally, with her music introduction ready to play when she motioned for him to do so. Her orders had been simple: play the music when given the sign, and kill anyone who happened to walk into the booth with him. Easy to do. Easy to do. How she hoped there would be many to enter that room…

She stood in the doorway of a hole that led onto an upper balcony above the massively crowded lobby below, and watched the scene with interest. The place was so beautifully decorated. Long strands of ivy, vines in brown and vibrant green, trailed across the ceiling, and mammals, male and female, dressed in loin clothes and Jane-esque togas, a real Tarzan of ridiculousness. Hundreds of people were assembled, all of them rich, wealthy beyond measure and snooty beyond regards, puffing cigars with foul smells to them and boasting loudly of their immeasurable wealth. On the stage, women strode about in ridiculous costumes meant to imitate flowers, tulip hates and lily gowns flubbing around on their heads as men whooped at them and voted out their biddings. Apparently, the rich men would bid for the women on stage, to take out on a date of sorts. Oh, this was just getting delicious…

But her main focus was caught upon two certain figures who stood upon the stage surrounded by the costumed women, waving and nodding (though uncomfortably) at the massive crowd before them. And they were _most_ interesting…

Both were tall, heavily muscular, and armored in disguises of their own. The taller of the two hid himself in full black, a pointy eared cowl upon his head and face, a cape flowing from behind, his gloves reinforced leather, his chestplate secure and tough. His companion wore similarly constructed armor, though in color red and black, his head uncovered but his face hidden behind a thick mask that covered his eyes and half of his nose. He was the younger of the two, boasting with a certain freshness that she could easily work against him… These two, undoubtedly, were the two Caped Crusaders she had heard so much about. Batman, the dark one, and Robin, the young and vibrant one. And to think…

_To think they would willingly stand out there, flaunting themselves around for attention like this. _

She had done research in the last twenty-four hours, compiled newspaper reports revolving around the two protectors of Gotham. Know your target. Apparently, Batman had been around for some time, for over ten years, at least, facing unthinkable odds. In 1985, Gotham City had been attacked by a madman calling himself the Joker, taking on the persona of a clown maniac who, like her, had taken many lives in his quest for anarchy. Batman had personally killed him, or so the newspapers had said, but not before the Joker had poisoned a great many of Gotham's inhabitants… if only she could have met the man. Not too long after that incident, a second criminal had appeared, this in the form of a creature calling himself Oswald Copplepot, who had tried to destroy the city with the bombs strapped to penguins… he had reportedly drowned in a sewer of toxic waste. That would have been so beautiful to witness. Again, Batman had brought about this lunatic' demise…

And then, there had been two years ago… two years ago, two more criminals had appeared, and one of them she had known personally. Very personally.

His name had been Edward. Edward Nygma had been a brilliant neuron researcher, an employee of Wayne Enterprises like her, based here in Gotham at the main headquarters. His studies had led to the development of a device known as The Box, as he had put it, which he had been able to utilize for stealing information out of people's minds to become a "god" of ultimate wisdom. Accompanying Edward had been an ex-crazed district attorney by the name of Harvey Dent, who had met his demise on Claw Island, where Edward had been based, calling himself the Riddler. Edward had been damaged in the brain and incarcerated at Gotham's own Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

All of this, of course, had been enlightened upon her by her father, as well as a few researchers at the South American arboreal preservation lab. The truth of the matter had been that she and Edward had once been involved… it had not gone on for years, as she had hoped it would. The two of them were completely obsessed with their work, loving it more than they had each other, and Edward had been little more than a screw buddy for her for a year and a half, as she had been to him. They had not minded, of course. Work stress had dissolved any implications for true love. Romance had been all that they had needed to keep themselves sane during their hard times in the company. They had only ever shared a few dates, most in Sao Paulo when he had flown in to visit her… and then he had vanished from her life, leaving her at the Sao Paulo airport, only slightly heartbroken and more insulted.

Edward Nygma had been a special part of her life, but he had also become meaningless as well, short-lived pleasure that had adapted itself more appropriately when she had discovered what she could truly be. He was here now, in Gotham, up in that Arkham hellhole, and she cared none. He had flubbed up and allowed himself to be caught. What did it matter to her? Although… during her time here, if she could, perhaps she would visit him. In some ways, she _wanted_ him to see her as she was, to know that both of them had become lunatics, that their madness was shared…and perhaps, also, their passion for each other could potentially grow. To kill Edward Nygma… the thought was romantic, and it would be a nice way of greeting an old friend…

But for now, she could turn her attention to the matter at hand: the Flower Ball.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Gossip Gerty of Good Morning Gotham and I welcome you to the gem of our evening!" the Maestro Charles, host to the evening, announced before the crowd assembled. Everyone began applauding, and Ivy began to shift her gorilla costume into position, making her way around the back of the room, above the heads of those assembled, all of whom had their eyes pointed stageward.

She noticed the annoying reporter she had come across at the telescope presentation. An pang of annoyance shot across her heart. How _loathsome_ it was to be in the same room as _Gossip Gerty_…

"The famed Heart of Isis," Gerty announced, " on loan from the Collection of my close, personal friend Bruce Wayne!" The crowd roared more loudly, and Batman and Robin both began to clap respectfully. The strangest smile was fixed upon Batman's face. Ivy smiled, too. With that kind of armor strapped around him, she was sure that this Batman saw Bruce Wayne as an amateur billionaire in comparison. What were diamonds to professionally reinforced battle armor like that?

"Tonight, on auction, an opportunity to dine with one of our fabulous flowers, the famed diamond draped around her neck." The Maestro seemed impassioned by the proclamation. Ivy briefly imagined herself wearing that beautiful diamond necklace. Indeed, she would be soon. It already belonged to her, the mammals did not know it. She fingered the make-up mirror that she had attached to her true costume underneath. The pheromones were ready, even for a large crowd like this.

Gerty began to grab the attention back to herself. "Ooo, look at all these luscious lovelies. let's start the bidding!"

And the mammals, no doubt mentally beating their hands against their chests and parading around making animal noises, began to indulge in their animalistic rituals of mating. In a way, the demon Cambier was immediately reminded of the Come Agua, who had also idolized the chances to be with her, when she had ruled, all that long ago.

"Ten thousand for Chrysanthemum!"

"Twenty thousand for Lilac!"

"Thirty thousand for Rose!"

"Boys," Gerty cried. "Show some gusto!"

But now Ivy was waving her gorilla arms in plain view of the Dj box, and Bane saw the signal at once. She saw the large shadow in there move, and at once, her music began to blow. It was the most enchanting melody, something Indian oriented play with tambourines and Indo-flutes. Seductive was its rhythm, fluid like a river, and as it began to swell, still in gorilla form, she began to sway her arms in a mystical sort of way. The music swelled so loudly, and suddenly she realized Batman and Robin, as well as the many girls onstage, were focusing upward at her. Slowly the crowd was beginning to follow their gazes, to see the mysterious apparition above them.

She began to strip, as she done many times since her arrival here before an entranced crowd. Though no nudity or flashy tease seduced them here, as none of them were meant to die. Yet. Modesty was the better choice in this case, for modesty had a more beautiful way of alluring to the physical needs of the opposite sex. She cast away the fur of the gorilla suit, to reveal the slender green, leafy leotard under, the glistening jewels adorning her body. She waved her hips in such wondrous ways, twisting her neck and flinging her hair in a seductive manner, as now all eyes were fixed upon her.

Then, the pheromones. Masses and masses of it, her lips pursed passionately as she blew, the pink mist falling down upon the crowd like rain in a light meadow. And when it touched them, they came dazed where they stood, entranced by her beauty, the most wondrous in the entire world, mesmerizing them beyond their ability to cope. She winked directly at the duo of Crusaders, standing there stone work to anticipate the viewer, and promptly threw herself over the bridge she stood upon. Several men in the loincloths below caught her, and she pushed herself up from them, kissing two of them on their cheeks as they held her up, their eyes dilating with worship. The poison began to slowly cook away at their skin, but it would be a while before either of them realized it. And by then, it would make its way into their mouths and it would be too late.

She began to make her way forward, carried in each hand by the two men she had kissed, and as she walked so many more of the wild mammals fell to their stomachs, allowing her to trample upon them as a bridge, digging her heels in intentionally hard as she stepped on top of them. They belonged to her.

When she reached the stage, she came to stand between Batman and Robin both, smiling sweetly at the two of them as they gazed, transfixed and dazed, into her eyes.

"Hi there," she whispered.

"And…you are?" the Maestro breathed.

She smiled. Tell them your name, Poison. Your name, and then your title. "Poison," she said with a deliciousness about it, stressing the beautiful word. "Poison Ivy."

The crowd began to chatter excitedly, some of them even whispering her name in fanatic gesture. She turned to Batman and delivered unto him a second dose of pheromones.

"Why not send junior here home early…my garden needs tending." She said the words, but little did she acknowledge why she had chosen them. Perhaps, in this strange sort of moment, she had only desired to speak what was odd, what was unnatural. A corniness, the sort of bad joke used to describe your vagina that made people stare, because it was a night to be silly. She shrugged, however, deciding to produce the bad humor again. She turned to the young one, Robin, who looked weak and ready to fall to his knees. She blew the pheromones into his face and he shook violently. "On the other hand, youth _does have its advantages. _Stamina…endurance… forget the geriatric Bat. Come, join me."

She then turned to the Maestro, her hands reaching for the pillow in his hands that bore the sparkling, brilliant diamond necklace. "I'll take it from here, pal," she said, snatching the diamonds up and throwing it over her neck. They had not announced the winner of the night, but that was because they were far too entranced to bear the strength to say her name loudly.

"Wouldn't you like the earrings, too…?" the Maestro asked stupidly, but she ignored him, snatching his microphone from his hand and gazing out into the massive crowd.

"Some lucky boy's about to hit the _honeypot_," she said seductively, pointing at a region below. I'll include an evening of my company for the winner. I'll bring everything you see here. Plus… everything you don't." It was a promise. And a genuine one. Whichever victim she brought home tonight _would_ be given everything. The afterlife awaited them. Their reward would be waiting. She gave the microphone back to Maestro and stood once more between the two vigilantes.

"50 thousand for Poison Ivy!" someone in the crowd screamed.

"One hundred thousand for Poison Ivy!" another snarky rich man cried out. He looked familiar. Like someone who _hated_ vigilantes. Which was fitting, because-

"One million!" Batman suddenly cried, much to her amazement and the crowd's shock.

"Two million!" snapped Robin, his eyes blazing with a kind of fury at once. Batman turned to him, a dark expression on his hidden face. Ivy grinned. _Yes_!

"You don't have two million," he snapped. "Three million!"

"I'll borrow it from you, four million!" Robin screamed, his teeth gnashing in anger.

"Five million!" Batman snapped.

"That's a utility belt, not a money belt, six million!"

Batman's face froze. A dark look, but a smirk of a look, rose over his features. He pulled something from his side. "Seven million." In his hand, a VISA of sorts. A credit card, black, with his logo printed upon it, the name as **Batman**, the expiration date, forever. Ivy and the rest of the crowd gasped horrifically. To see that something could exist! To see a horror like no other was a dream. This was terrifying, the existence of a Bat credit card. Ivy had been pushed into toxic chemicals and strangled with poison, but she had not seen anything so vile and repulsive as a Bad credit card. She could hear the crowd inside of her head booing, somewhere else in her mind, a child crying at the sight. And in another part, an angry man, with a shrill voice, screaming obscenities about how his soul and childhood was being raped by the sight of the Bat credit card…

"You're not going to fight over little ol' me, are you!?" she asked them quickly, trying to put a distraction into place that could ensure the Bat credit card would not haunt their attention. He dropped it quickly, his face awkward, and everyone in the room sighed with relief.

But distractions were far from over.

The world exploded around them. A bang, like something she could imagine being let off from a small nuclear blast, emitted around the air before them. The floor shook violently and the crowd screamed. Everyone's attention suddenly turned to something that had happened in the back. Rubble was flying in every direction and thick, light blue smoke was pushing its way into the room. A massive cold suddenly enveloped the room, the temperature dropping as if it were in free fall.

Ivy stared at the sight that had suddenly made itself known.

A massive tank-like vehicle, parked in a massive hole that it had stabbed through the wall, its front end adorned with fierce, thick spikes. It was emitting some powerful emission of freezing cold mist, and there was someone sitting atop the large tank. Someone heavily armored, in a bright silver armor that was both bulky and well protective of blue skin underneath. The armored blue man stood up tall, where the rest of the room could see him clearly, and in his hand, he carried a thick, fat gun of some unknown origin. It looked like alien technology.

"Alright, everyone!" the armored man cried aloud, his accent something like thick Austrian. "Chill!"

And he cocked the fat gun in hand, aiming it directly at the crowd…


	13. A Frozen Fiasco (Turkish Baths)

Frozen tendencies.

A bulk like no other, and a fear that resonated a crown of cruelty. He was inhuman, beyond the limitations of humanity. He was so much more than mankind in its weakness, another ascended beauty crafted in the armor of his purpose, his name sailing throughout the clouds of icy mist that emitted from his tank, and from his crystal-like armor.

She had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Hello, Sorry about the door. Is the party over?" He grinned malevolently as he cocked the gun loudly. People began to scream in unison, running in every direction as the man in the armor began to fire. Ice! Ice was it that came out of the end of that gun, a straight stream of frozen water that shot out with a force not unlike that of a bullet's capabilities. When it struck its target, the first being a couple of elderly party goers in most expensive nightly wear near the back of the crowd, they were enveloped at once into statues of crystal ice, their horrified screams frozen with them. "Cool party," the madman sang as he blasted at the crowd once more. Men were breaking free of the tank, doors swinging open as what appeared to be the madman's enforcers of sorts carrying knives and guns.

As Ivy watched, her eyes wide with the memorization of the creature's intents, Batman and Robin both moved in unison, running forward to meet against the icy enforcers that were making their way onto the stage. Three of these men, hidden behind black eyemasks and heavy fur coats, carried what looked like hunting knives in hand, and leapt upon the stage, one of them muttering to the others as he pointed at Ivy. She put a hand on her heart, mocking a look of concern at him, before she smiled as Robin stood to block their way and threw a kick into the closest one's chest, throwing him off the stage and into the crowd below.

The madman in the crystal armor was using his large ice gun as a melee, whipping both security guards and party goers who had the misfortune to stand in his way. One man went flying across the room, smashing head first into a neon sign reading **Jungle Lovas**, where he vanished in a blast of sparks. Ivy grinned madly, her heart racing at the beautiful sight. She was close to tears of laughter. She looked around in the opposite way, observing as Batman intercepted a man holding what looked like a wooden shield to protect himself from the Dark Crusader, watched as Batman punched through the wooden shield, saw the enforcer drop down onto the ground as unconsciousness came for him.

"Night," Batman muttered, as he and Robin ran to intercept the frozen warlord who had set off this party. This was so much more interesting now. Quick sets of footsteps, and Ivy turned to see two men walking from the stage left, knives in their hands as well as they approached her. She flicked open her hand held mirror, blowing the pheromones in their direction at once, and the two crooks who came for her stopped dead in their tracks, their heads spinning.

"Kill some of these annoying guests, will you?" she asked them sweetly, her eyes swelling with fake tears for more dramatic effect as she sucked on her finger for max emphasis. The two goons laughed maniacally, turning at once on the crowd of wealthy victims before them as they leapt from the stage and began to slaughter as she had wished. Ivy laughed to herself. Even in chaos, she was in control.

As she watched the carnage blowing about, ten henchmen of the ice king engaging Batman and Robin both in a mass of ambush, she noticed not that the large commander in his frozen attire had made his way onto the stage. The tall, brooding man of ice and fury towered over her in an intense, threatening way, his eyes boring into the diamond that she had wrapped around her neck. She stared, innocently enough, into his eyes as well, wondering what must be said… what must be done. She did not want to have to kill this wondrous man. He was performing too beautifully. There was far too much potential to his cause and ability.

"Let me guess, Plant Girl? Vine Lady? Ms. Moss?" _Ms. Moss?_ Ten points from Frozendore for that terrible pun. "Hand over the diamonds, plant gal… or I'll turn you into mulch." His words were dark enough, and truly promising, could not be disbelieved in the slightest, but that was fine and well. She was welcome to new ideas, new pleas, and to throw herself before a situation like this that called for a little risk… it was like a story. Only briefly did she note Batman and Robin both swinging about intently, their blows and kicks landing perfectly well but fine enough to distract from the man before her, and she quickly blew pheromones into the man's face, her face burning with a seductive expression as she tried to thaw the ice sculpture before her. But…

He closed his eyes for a moment, smelling at the air about him, and a small smirk appeared upon his face. She gasped. That smile, this collectiveness…

"Pheromone dust. Designed to heat a man's blood."

Her heart stopped. _No_! He was going to kill her. Make her into an ice sculpture as he had the others. She was dead. Where was Bane? She looked around frantically, searching for any indication of a pin gorilla heading her way… " Doesn't work on the cold hearted. Now, if you please..." The madman's voice became very urgent. He was pleading with her, an obsessive begging burning inside of him. She felt almost sorry for him as his blue eyes bore into her, a dog begging for scraps or something far more. She had no idea what this diamond could do for him, but he had obviously needed _it_.

Batman and Robin had both made it public that they would be appearing at this place. Their history in dealing with men such as this was very well quite known. There were so many people here tonight that robbing so many other jewelry stores could have served a drastic purpose and without the risk of the two vigilantes who were pulverizing his men before him… so _why_ this particular event, this particular diamond?

She decided her irritation swelling for a moment, to give in. This man knew something about pheromone dust. Had he worked with arboreal anomalies before, as she did? Who _was_ this amazing man!?

Tilting her neck up, her face calm and pleasant to a respect, she offered, "If you insist…" Perhaps she could kiss him as he bent down… But no… The man ripped the necklace from her, his hand gripping the chain hard as her jerked it off with an arse of force. She twung for a moment, flinching in a slight pain as he took it.

"Clever little clover," he offered her, holding up the diamonds with a satisfied (and was it extremely relieved) expression upon his face. Just then, one of his enforcers screamed, falling face first onto the stage beside them. Both he and Ivy looked down at the fallen crook, and then the cold one's face settled. "That's my exit cue," he said quickly. He held the diamond again. "Thank," he offered, a small smile of appreciation upon his face, before he quickly turned and began to punch his way through the crowd, back towards his tank. Batman and Robin, who had been pushed away to the side of the stage, saw him making the escape and the two of them began to run after him.

As they passed close to where Ivy stood, Robin stopped in his tracks, turning back to stare up at her. She smiled, pursing her lips in a blow of a kiss as she took advantage of his sudden attention. The way he gazed at her, his eyes glistening with a strange longingness that distracted him from the events of the rest of the world…

"Come on!" Batman snapped gruffly, as the large tank began to back away out of the hole in the wall. Robin hesitated for a moment, and Batman had practically been forced to drag the man away, for his attention, all ambition and desire, was still attached to the beautiful red headed woman on the stage…

When the two of them had vanished, Ivy grinned, knowing that she had gotten through. A success… but only half way. Her mind was still reeling around the cold man, and the chaos that he had brought upon this night. The artistic way he had ravaged these people, the brutal power he had commanded… the _inhumanity_ of it all!

She noticed a small compensation gift upon a nearby table: a snow globe, with a miniature Gotham model on the inside, bearing the words **Welcome to Gotham**. She picked it up thoughtfully, her mind fixated upon the cold man as she shook it, watching the ice and fake snow cover the city within.

"Miss Ivy, you've just met one of the most sinister men in Gotham," a man suddenly said, breaking her from her trance. She looked around and saw that he was a large, beefy bearded man adorned in a well medaled police uniform, as he nodded quickly and ran to tend to the wounded and the frozen. She smiled to herself.

"That's not a man," she said softly, her voice filled with a lovingness. "_That_ was a god…"

Loud, thunderous footsteps behind, and she saw Bane approaching out of the corner of her eye, removing the monkey mask while still wearing the rest of the pink gorilla suit. _And just where have you been, you useless meat sack…_?

"Enough monkey business," she snapped at him, her eyes glowing for a moment as her anger swelled. "We've got work to do…"

She could feel the potential of anticipation rising up inside of her, and truly whispered to herself the events that were to come. The cold one… he refused to leave her mind…

Out through the back alley, and back into the limo. She wondered even now if the cold man had properly escaped. What had been his name, she wondered? Why had he chosen that spot, on that night? And why had he treated her with such respect? His ruthlessness had shown its course. He had frozen people, probably to fatal limits, and yet he had only snatched away her necklace and left her intact? Had she perhaps assisted him in some secret, beautiful way? He had wanted that diamond for a reason… and his eyes…

_His eyes had shown some kind of compassion_.

As sickening as that was, it was also rather refreshing. To see something like that, burning with fresh life inside. She needed that kind of love, that kind of commitment, because the eyes shared everything. Men wore their hearts in their eyes all the time. Where was his heart? Surely buried beneath a fat layer of ice and crystal… _crystal_…

"Bane," she said quickly, laying her head against the businessman's body once more. She felt drained. "Remember the address?"

Bane knew exactly what address she was referring to. They had discussed it promptly the night before. Before she had murdered Louis during their little intercourse moment, she had seduced the mesmerized man into telling her all he knew about abandoned buildings in Gotham. The man had been a well-known contractor, he had told her, and there were several buildings in the Shiviar Poor District that had been vacated for years. Now had come the time to remove themselves from the confines of the limo and what homes that could steal temporarily from the families they had murdered. She needed permanent, unquestionable residence to claim. Eden's time had come. The seeds were growing restless now. For every sexual experience she had shared with both Bane and the dead Louis, she had received bodily seed. And that bodily seed had undergone a rather wondrous transformation…

She fingered the box on the floorboard, pondering as to what lay concealed in the black pods that her body had produced…

She was turning semen into literal seeds. Crafted from her DNA, the potential was invigorating… but she needed somewhere private to see what lay in store for her. And one such location had been a point of reference, Louis had given it to them with interest: an old arboreal complex known as Blossom St. Turkish Baths. The establishment, as Louis had told her, had been abandoned years before, boarded away and forgotten by the owners who had once cared for it.

And it was going to serve a beautiful purpose now. Bane began the drive into the west for the poor district, as Ivy confided with the corpse beside her of all that had transpired at the party. "Oh, you should have seen him, he was _beautiful_! He crashed into the fray and froze people into living statues with that gun of his. Do you think it was painful for them?" she asked urgently, hoping that the dead body thought so. "Oh, I _do_ hope so… I hope they were in so much pain…" She stared out of the window mellow faced like a teenage girl in love, her voice softening into an almost whisper. "The thought of them in pain… it makes a girl want to pollenate."

She squeezed George's hand. "You're always so good at listening, you really are. I can't stop thinking about him, you know… the way he took what he wanted, the _power_ of it all… so much more than Bane could ever be."

Bane heard this, and he turned his head for a moment, the titan's heart breaking at her words. She knew that she hated him… but it never stop hurting. Because he was in love too… but she would never return the sentiment in the way that Antonio Diego needed. Nonetheless, he would continue to serve his love, Poison in all that she was, until she disposed of him, which he knew she would…

"I've been thinking too small," she said to herself, clawing at the window. "I can't do this alone. Mother Nature has always required her servants and worshippers. Thugs off the street, they're easy, they can be destroyed, replaced… but a man like _that_…"

She wrapped her arms around herself. "It's every girl's dream come true…" She gazed at George in the dark. "Soon you'll have a new home, I promise," she whispered to the corpse. "Just wait a little longer. We'll begin Eden's roots soon, and then, you will be displayed for the world to see, George. We'll build a home together. Isn't that right, Worthless?" she added, stroking Bane's ear with a loving hand.

If only she could see the green tears leaking from his glowing eyes…

"A girl's in the mood, Bane, a girl's in the mood. Eden's so close, I can smell it. Can taste it for its splendors. I need it, Bane, more than you could ever understand…"

The limo came to a halt outside of the building that stood tall before them, boarded up and forgotten into timelessness. It was eerie to behold, the dead quietness of it in this gloomy, ghost part of town. Few people blessed this district with their presence. It was almost as if Gotham had forgotten about it, that it lived in its own little world… its own existence… it was wonderful. Solitude.

She opened her door with pleasure, happy to take a short break from George's odor. He had been cooped up in the hot car for so very long now that his body was beginning to smell. Soon the maggots would be eating him, if they were not already. But she intended to keep him. He was her friend, her lover… she had no intention of breaking up with him. The air out here, of course, smelled just as rank, that terrible old building smell overwhelming. But home sweet home, it would be smelling fine soon. The fragrance of a thousand flowers. Quite literally.

As she began to walk, her mind reeled back to Freeze, and to Batman and Robin. It all revolved around the pheromones…

"Batface and Birdbrain turned out to be more resistant to my love dust than expected. No matter, I'll give them a stronger dose. Next time, they'll literally be dying for me…" She voiced this aloud to Bane, for she _had_ to kill them. It was no longer precaution, and no longer sexual desire on her part. There was just no other way life could go on. Their death was a necessity, because she deemed it as such, herself being her own "goddess". When she deemed a death necessary, she would have it. And Batman and Robin both were needed dead. Not for Eden's sake: they had no power to stop it coming. No… she needed them dead because they existed. Existing was perhaps the move grievous of crimes…

"This looks promising," she noted, eyeing the **St. Blossom Turkish Baths **sign crowning the door before them. A large sign was plastered over this, in thick white lettering: **DO NOT ENTER**. Well, that sounded welcoming. "Bane," she said, nodding at it. Bane strode forward at once, and when he reached the door his fist came forward, breaking through the framework of the door as he did, the smashing powerful and sending ripples through the air. The smash pulverized it as it went flying forward, crashing into the floor inside of the room.

And here, now, came the critters who crawled in the dark. A blast of heavy metal met their ears as Ivy and Bane stepped in. She observed the dusty, decrepit tombs that were the Baths with distaste, feeling a sickness come over her at the thought of no plants in this throne room. That had to be changed.

Shadows appeared before them, mites of men in neon paint, no less. The neon was plastered upon their faces and glowed green and red in the pitch dark, resembling glowing skulls. The thugs were well numbered, all settled around a small campfire and blasting radio, at least nine of them.

"A fixer upper, no less, yet a minus: current tenants." She shook her head sadly, smiling at what she knew was coming next. Even without having to use the pheromones, the painted, glowing thugs were staring hungrily at her body. One of them, presumably the leader, his voice scratchy and wicked, slobbered the offer, "Hello, my little pretty pretty…"

She almost snorted. Pretty pretty? What was this, Oz? Was he perhaps the Wicked Warlock of the West? He certainly looked like one. But she would rather label him to one of the flying monkeys. All that was needed now was to give him his wings. Fly, my pretty, fly…

"Hello yourself," she scorned, but in a teasing sort of way. The man's eyed widened.

"You look good enough to eat…" Was this a threat, or some kind of sexual offer? Either way, it came off as awkward. The thought of eating people… It made her stomach growl.

She pulled back the lace green cloak she wore, to reveal her chest, glistening even in the dim light. This set the monkeys to howling. "That I am. Come and get me… if you can." And she slapped the Turbo upon Bane's chest. As the Venom began to pump with incredible pressure, Bane growled loudly. The leader of these dark creatures grinned, with a promise of "With pleasure."

He, and his amusing comrades, drew weapons at once, glow in the dark, neon green and pink chains. How stupid…

The closer of the nine swung their chains around Bane's arm, wrapping tightly, and for a moment, it looked as if Bane had been captured… but then Bane's smashed his foot down upon a loose board and the two creatures were bounded into the air by the other end of it, flying over his shoulder and past Ivy as they crashed out of the open door. Bane moved forward quickly and smashed his fists against three of them, throwing them into a nearby wall, where they crashed through the wood in a terrible, bone breaking way, their screams echoing into the night…

The thugs were fleeing, running as fast as they could from the terrible beast, pushing their way past Bane and Ivy as they flung themselves into the night. Ivy allowed them to pass, bowing them out with a kind smile as satisfaction overwhelmed her. She would have to locate them, after this was all done, and recruit them into the army… they were skilled, that was for sure, and when turned against her enemies… the possibilities were endless.

She held up her arms. "Let's re-decorate."

She strode forward, stepping over the one thug still in view, unconscious at Bane's feet. She would kill him in a moment. He was the leader, the one who had wished to "eat her". He would get a taste of her, alright…

"Light," she command of Bane, and the titan promptly turned where he stood and ripped from the wall several boards, and as they crashed into a heap upon the floor, pink light from the stands outside flooded inside. "Water!" she cried, even louder. Bane reached up, where pipes that had been once connected for use in the bath filling hung, and twisted the metal that made up their frame work. Water began to flood out at once, crashing down onto the dirty wooden floor and turning the dense yellow a moldy brown.

Ivy stopped in place, tapping at the floor with her heel. "What is this floor?" she asked in disgust. Bane took the hint at once, smashing through the floor with his own foot, to create a whole, fresh earth revealed just beneath. Ivy grinned. A swell of pride and anticipation took over her body as she prepared her heart and soul. She bent down, taking from her side the pouch of black pods that held the roots of Eden within…

And then, the demon spoke with utter blasphemy, a most evil sentence that contested Big Man Upstairs and the consequences He would bring upon her for her evil ways…

"It took God seven days to create Paradise," she sighed, holding the black pods in hand. She looked up at Bane, a drunken expression upon her face, and then she spoke the evil words that, unknowingly to her, truly did seal her fate. "Let's see if I can do better..."

Even Bane felt the slightest bit of discomfort at her words, but it passed quickly. He already knew the path that he had tread down. His corruption would not be touched with righteous guilt so easily…

She dropped the seeds onto the earthy patch, where they combined with the flooded water and the dirt in such a beautiful way. When they made the connection, the transformation was almost instantaneous. Small sprouts burst forth from the dirt at once, vines and tendrils bright green and blooming with small flower petals. She released every seed pod that she had on her, and allowed Mother Nature's will to work for it…

Red buds and yellow buds rose, twisting in place like snakes being charmed from their baskets as they took in the scent of the air and drunk in the fresh oxygen that had been allowed for them upon the escape from the black pods… heavy vines and fresh blooms of poison ivy began to sprout free and wind their ways up the walls, strangling the wall posters of Neon Skulls that the monkeys had left behind. Ivy began to circle the "throne" chair, a lavish seat with a neon blanket strewn across it, as her plants began to bloom by the decas and overtake the room at once.

She took seat upon the throne as the jungle around her grew, overtaking the building in a mass of vines, ivy, flowers of every exotic taste, blooming with the ultimate ripeness and squeezing a powerful green to hide the walls. Eden!

The chair was very comfortable and well cushioned. It would be fitting for the Queen of the New World to make peace with these lavish offerings before the decimation could commence. But first, she would have to establish the most useful tool she could imagine… and as she thought of the new beginning, her mind turned to the cold one. Again.

"Bane, I've found a fellow who strikes my fancy. A cool customer, yes. Icy demeanor, no question. But I detect a certain ruthless charm I may be able to use to my advantage."

"Clean up this mess, Bane. We've got company coming…" Bane nodded. "Company…" he moaned, wondering as to what her plans were, and how the fruition of it could be achieved…

Poison Ivy had a dream that night. A wondrous dream that haunted her in the most passionate way. As she slept upon the floral pedestal that she had created in a main office upstairs, covered in thick vines of poison ivy and blooming lilies, she dreamed of Gotham City, wasted as it was crushed beneath the power of a thousand vines and a million deadly flowers. People were screaming and children were crying… but the plants were only half the fun…

_That the cold one came to secure a grave upon the souls who had defied her and him for far too long… they were frozen beneath the ice fields as vines strangled their throats and buried pods in their impaled eyes…_

A happy dream. She was going to have find him again… and soon.

By the next morning, the Gotham Gazette had given her what she needed.

**Frozen Madman, Mr. Freeze, Incarcerated at Arkham!**


	14. Suicide by Kiss (Preparing for Arkham)

When the thug awoke from his black out period, his head swum around with a heavy sense of pain and torment. His brain seemed to be pulsating, a migraine of a feel that burned at his nerves. His vision was blurry for several seconds when he first opened his eyes, and he shook his head roughly, trying to make sense of sight. When his vision cleared and things began falling into focus, he gasped.

Where was he?

He was no longer in the old Turkish Baths building that he and his gang had adopted as their mini- empire. This was something far more exotic. _It was the jungle_! A strange smell lingered in the air. The world around him was a mess of thick, heavy vines and ivy strewn from a black sky with no stars. He lay upon a thick layout of bush and ivy that made a makeshift bed. Had he fallen into a dream….?

The last thing that the thug could remember was the beast…the beast, and the beauty. They had come for him, him and his gang, had broken them and hurt him beyond bodily repair, as it had felt. He shifted his body, and realized that his hands and feet were bound. Bound with some sort of very strange, tender sort of rope. It held very firmly and he could not break free of it. This jungle scared him. He felt an odd sense of lack of solitude. _Eyes_… Eyes, always watching…

"Hello!?" he screamed, though in truth he could not decide if that were a stupid decision. The jungle had predators… He struggled in vain against whatever ropes held him in place. Nothing. "Please…" Tears began to fall. It was so hot in this jungle. A dense steam seemed to linger in the air. "Please… is anyone around…?"

"Just me…" a voice whispered suddenly. His heart stopped, an iciness rising over him. He knew that voice…

"Show yourself!" he demanded at once, furious and wanting to kill. If indeed it was her… he would gut her the first chance he got.

But when she stepped out, all thought of murder suddenly evaporated, and new desires rose in his dark heart instead. Complete nakedness, her breasts and private regions fully exposes, but wrapped around her legs were fresh cuttings of what he recognized as poison ivy, the red dots perfectly illuminated in the fire that seemed to be burning close by. She also had the ivy wrapped around her wrists and woven through her hair, which was hung loose and wild looking, leaves decorating the flaming red crown she bore. Her body seemed lace with sweat in the heat, and she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The one true thing that demanded lust.

She leaned against something in the dark, which must have been a tree, and gazed down at her prisoner lovingly.

"Hi there…"

He gaped mindlessly at her legs, examined lustfully the carpet, feeling himself grow down below. She really did look good enough to eat…

"H-hi…" he replied dumbly, unable to say anything else. She giggled.

"How do you like the Roots of Eden?" she asked him, her voice swollen with pride as she looked around the jungle.

"The…wha….?"

"The _Roots_ of Eden," she repeated firmly. "Eden's birth, fully realized. The brilliance of Mother Nature's call. Madre de Verde's will given life. What do you think of it, now that you see it, mammal?"

He frowned. Mammal? "Ugh… pretty. Yeah, sure… pretty, pretty…"

"Pretty?"

"Yes, pretty. Very beautiful…." Was this not what women liked to hear?

Ivy stared down at him angrily, the largest pang of annoyance flashing across her face. The man saw it, and felt the most icy, horrible feeling lower upon him. It scared him. His heart began to race.

"Pretty? Beautiful? You look upon the roots of Eden… and it's _pretty_?" Her voice spoke in barely less than a whisper. Now the man was truly terrified. He could feel fire coming, an intense anger that would surely tear him about and leave him for dead… "You look upon this kingdom, _my_ throne of the planet, the _art_ of Mother Nature, and all you can say is pretty? Beautiful? _I_ am pretty, _I _am beautiful, and _I_ am perfection, but my work! MY WORK IS SO MUCH MORE!" She screamed furiously, her eyes bulging madly as her teeth gnashed together. The thug closed his eyes, whimpering as tears began to fall. Ivy dropped down beside the man and threw her hands around his neck. She was going to kill him! "You sit here, you filthy, focking mammal, pathetic and useless as anything has ever been, witnessing perfection like me and knowing that you are in the presence of all that is admirable and desired, and you can only say _pretty_!? You lay here, bound to life by the mercy that I, goddess of this world, have given to you, enveloped in my kindness that has allowed you to suck up the air of my children, and you whore yourself out with answers a pre-schooler could vomit up with as much caringless and false admirations to PRESERVE YOUR MISERABLE LIFE, YOU SICK FOCK!"

She began to squeeze his throat, and he choked out, gasping for air. Her hold was so powerful, her might something he had never come across before. To think that such a thin, fine woman could hold such strength. She looked like something beyond a supermodel, beyond the most lusted after porn star… and yet such _power_!

"You sit there, giving me false assertions to beg for mercy and what else? Huh, what the fock else!?" She flipped him onto his back, so that he could gaze into her eyes. The eyes of his killer. Her eyes glowed bright green, radiating the energy of the Venom, the soul of the demon Cambier. He tried to scream, but could not muster it. His windpipe was being crushed. He could not break free of the things that held him. He was going to die!

And then she released him. She was breathing hard, winded by the fury and power she had administered, and the thug choked out, loudly and very hoarsely as she struggled for breath, his throat throbbing, his heart pounding far too painfully fast. Ivy lay her head against his stomach, her face shifting at once. Happiness, a soft contentedness.

"I love you," she whispered, cuddling her face into his belly. The thug gasped, a high squeak of a pained sound. What…? "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it? The way it all holds itself together, the might of Mother Nature calling you through the vines…and the flowers… and the bodies…"

She raised her ivy wrapped arm into the air and motioned up and then down with her index. At once, as if called from some invisible being, something like telepathy, a secret understanding, thick vines crashed down from the black sky. And the thug screamed. Screamed in a terrible horror of a man who had seen every imaginable nightmare as it was forced down his throat and into his very soul. Dead men hung from the vines, the thick plants wrapped around their necks like nooses, and he knew the men. They were _his_ men. The glow in the dark paint still decorated their faces, but something was different about them. Their veins seemed to be bulging out and filled with a thick green substance. Poison? Every one of them had been mutilated, too. The eye sockets were empty, and deep cuts had been made into their foreheads and necks, whole chunks seemingly tore from them. They were naked as well, stripped of all clothing from their bodies, and he could see that their skin had turned a pale greenish brown, and that the veins all over their bodies were filled with the same green substance. Someone had also castrated their privates…

Eight of them. Eight of them hung above the thug and Ivy, and as Ivy admired them, giggling uncontrollably at the sight, the thug continued to scream as he sobbed. This was truly beyond the nightmare. Never had he anticipated such evil to exist. He felt utter degradation and mental collapse suffocate his mind. The sight of the mangled, poisoned corpses of his friends cracked his perception and made him feel cold…alone…

"I-I…" She snorted loudly, her laughter far too much for her to control. You would think that someone had told the most hilarious joke in the world. "I… ha ha ha ha… I'm sorry, I'm sorry… hold on…" She was sweating madly from her intense laughter, and it took several seconds (during which the thug continued to sob uncontrollably) before she could bring herself under control. "I had Bane round them up! Had him hunting all night!" She positively was snorting like a hog. "And when- when he found- when he found them, he drug them back here and I _poisoned _ them, I sure did! And we cut them all up. Ate them! Your friends had exquisite taste! Some of the parts I've put into a jar collection, but me and Bane had to eat, you see? Then we strung them up here, so that you would have your friends as company. I just…I just didn't want you to be alone, you know?"

She stroked his cheek, smiling kindly at him as she wiped his tears away. He looked at her with as much hatred and fury as he could muster. She was a monster! A freaking _MONSTER_!

"This room bears witness to the future of mankind, my friend. The dead…and the living." When she said the word "Dead", she motioned at the hanging bodies. When she said the word "Living", she motioned at the jungle before her. "This is what the world is going to look like. This is what the Earth will forever stand as. A utopia of Mother Nature, fully realized, littered with the corpses of the billions of mammals who I will personally see to the extinction of. This is my promise." She stroked his lips with her fingers. "I make this promise to you…"

Her hand found his pants and he felt her lower the zipper. "But first," she whispered, in a seductive tone, "I need help. You see, Eden's roots were not made from magic. It was not made from wishes or prayers. It was made from years of extensive research, and it was made from passion. I produced the seeds from my own body. But I needed help…"

What she held in her hand brought a rage of hormones upon the man, and his senses began to blur. "I need your seed… so that in turn, it becomes the Seed of Eden."

"You're…nuts…" he choked out, his breath hoarse through the tears that strained his voice. "You're…just…nuts…"

"Am I?" she whispered back, twisting the man's erection in her hand to a painfully degree. She began to pull it upwards, and he screamed. It felt as if she were going to rip it off. But a smile stayed plastered upon her face and it never died. She almost seemed to be staring off into space as she tormented the man. "Am I insane? You need to join your friends, up there in Mother Nature's arms, but first you have to give me something in return. Your friends did. Each of them gave themselves to me, they simply had no other purpose in life. I took them, one by one, and our passion was like nothing ever written by mankind. If you could have seen it… the intensity of the lovemaking, and when we kissed… the kiss was so much more than you could ever imagine. My lips are filled with the most deadly poison. To have them kiss me like that, to have them die while _inside_ of me… have you ever wondered what a corpse feels like in the heat of passion? To have someone's life whisked away, because of their love for you…?"

_This woman is… is there even a word for it_? He thought to himself miserably, feeling sick to his stomach as he listened to her evil words. He had been a street thug for as long as he could remember, making a living off beating the crap out of senseless street wanderers who had bore the misfortune of entering his kingdom… but this… this was true evil. True horror. His heart broke when he acknowledged the terror of his situation. She was eyeing him with a sick kind of hunger in her face, squeezing him down there with a tension that, although naturally made him hormonally rageful, also tormented his mind. His body may be enjoying this, but his heart and soul were far from it. She was going to rape him…and then kill him… kill him with…what had she said? A kiss? Her lips…were filled with poison…?

"Your lips…?" he managed at last, feeling weak as he begged the question. Ivy smiled, stroking his face.

"Yes…my lips…" Her tongue came out of her mouth and licked her licks in a most arousing way. "I bet you just can't wait to have a taste… but I need something first. I need you _inside_ of me. I need you to bring the animal out in both of us…"

"Hell…no…"

She frowned. This was not the response she had expected.

"W-what?"

"I said…_hell….NO!"_ He screamed the last word. She looked surprised, hurt even. A deepest frown of concern that made her question if her charm was truly working.

"You… you can't just…"

Her face was so close to his. Inches from her. He knew he was going to die. But he refused to give her the satisfaction of raping him and using his sperm for any kind of crazy plant experiment. And so, mustering up all the strength that he could, he lurched his body forward and opened his mouth, his teeth clamping down upon her lips as hard as he could. She gasped as the thug pulled her forward, biting deep into her lips as he forced a kiss upon her.

Pain shot through his body in a most horrifying way. He felt utter sickness envelope him as liquid secreted out of her lips and entered his mouth. It tasted incredibly bitter, like something dead and rotten, and the poison worked quickly, travelling into his throat and down into his stomach where it massed out into his bloodstream with lightning quickness. The thug's body shut down and the life disappeared out of him at once, his body falling back as his teeth released her mouth and she crawled away, yellow blood gushing out of her own lips as she moaned in pain.

"You _sick_ fock!" she screamed at him, her eyes tearing up at once. The thug had died with a satisfying smile on his skeletal face. He had committed suicide by poisonous kiss, knowing that he could at least deprive her of the pleasures she had sought from him. The triumphed expression stared up at the black ceiling in death, and Ivy stood up at once, striding angrily from the room. She pushed her way through the ivy laced halls and back into the main room that served as her new throne. The central pool that had once been empty was now filled with a deep pool of water, and lily pads had begun to grow in large sizes upon its murky surface. Bane stood in one corner of the room, examining her with interest as she strode into the room, tears falling as she sobbed uncontrollably. "I HATE HIM! HATE HIM!" she screamed at Bane, pointing towards the room in the back. "He _bit_ me! He refused to have sex with me, Bane! Refused! He killed himself using me! I hate him!" She threw herself onto her floral throne and seethed uncontrollably, her hands shaking violently as she grabbed at the vines covering her chair and crushed them in hand. Killing her own children…

Bane moved forward, holding up a concerned hand.

"No…"

"Shut up, Bane! Just shut up! I am NOT going to be told _no_! No is NOT given to Mother Nature! I am the Madre de Verde, the Mother of Eden! I will not be denied!"

Bane shook his head. Pitied the poor fool…

"Go and get my clothes from the car, Bane," she ordered him after several seconds of stewing. She stood from her chair and began to make her way from a side room on the left of the throne. "The rubber one and the boots, Bane, and the belt as well, the one we crafted in Millingtons… I want them all brought to me at once…"

Bane obeyed at once, crashing through the distant vines that covered the entry way as she strode into the room where Bane had set up for her a tall mirror and a clothes rack. Her make up kit and hair essentials were strewn across a table top, as well as her trusty knife. She snatched up the switch blade and unsheathed the deadly blade, falling down onto her knees where she began to carve into her own skin. The self-mutilation was dreadfully painful but also rather satisfying. It took her mind off of the dead man in the next room who had defied her, when so many countless others had been unable to. Her yellow blood flowed down her arm and she stuck her tongue out, licking at the deadly poisonous substance like a ravenous dog who had been deprived of food for so long.

When Bane returned, a few minutes later, she walked towards him as he stood in the doorway, a bundle of clothes in his arms, and promptly stabbed him in the side of the neck. Bane let out a terrible scream as the knife penetrated his tough flesh, dropping the bundle of clothes at her feet as he stepped back, pulling out the knife even as Ivy slammed the door shut to separate the two of them.

"Don't even think of retaliating, Bane! Don't _even_!" she screamed furiously, as she snatched up the rubber green suit and the gloves that had come with it. She had recently made some changes to the long rubber gloves, cutting at the bottom to make triangular ends that made them resemble leaves. She had painted the ends of the fingers bright red, to symbolize the blood of mankind that she would paint this depraved world with.

For several minutes, during which Bane remained eerily quiet on the other side of the door (she half expected him to break through the wood and throttle her), Ivy dressed in peace and quiet. The slender, extraordinarily skin tight green rubber rubbed hard against her bare skin as she fit herself into it, her body anatomically matched perfectly to its tightness. A deep cut down the front the chest area exposed the top of chest, which was perfect, but then she had to fix her hair just right.

She picked up the electrical iron curler and stared at the hot device with an intent malice. What was she? A Mohawk? A ponytail? A short trimmed, wavy haired goddess? No… no she was not. She was a devil. A demon. She _was_ the Devil, and the thought alone was a sensual one to her. She had to play her part well. She was going to murder again, soon, for the cold one's time had come. The papers had identified him by the name, "Mr. Freeze." Well, Mr. Freeze, she was going to kill for you. She was a demon of the Earth, and as such, she would play the part well…

For the longest time the curler did its work, heated well and twisted through her blood red curls as she swirled the motion, fixing her hair into a set of round ended, mountainous cone shapes, devil horns the color of blood. When her work was finished, she admired herself in the mirror. She looked odd, completely set apart from the normality that commanded the social norm of the human race that she so despised. The gloves fit well upon her hands, the long high heeled boots travelling up past her knees. The skin tight rubber suit almost seemed to make love to her body itself, as she felt perfectly at home in it, a true, self-proclaimed domestic goddess. She had a pheromone carrier attached to each glove, and any man who was hit with it this day would be killed on the spot, with no exception. It was a promise that she made to herself._ Any_ man that she did this too _would_ die. It was the decree of Mother Nature, the command of Madre de Verde. Her will would be done. That most foul, evil will.

A minute later, she threw open the door of the room. Bane was resting on one knee, massaging the spot upon his neck where she had stabbed him, but when she stood there, her legs crossed in the tight green suit, he stood up at once, staring silently at her. She blew him a kiss.

"Forgive me?" she whispered to him, pulling his mask back and kissing him for a second upon his lips. Bane fell back onto his knees, choking miserably as he caught his throat. Ivy laughed, pushing his head aside as she passed. She heard him vomiting behind her, and sweetly called out, "When you're done squirming around, my useless friend, join me in the limo. We're due for a prison visit."

And she promptly left the room, her heart blazing with a sudden intensity as she envisioned the mighty walls of Arkham Asylum, and the cold "god", as she had called him, awaiting Mother Nature to come and save him. The two of them together… would be more beautiful than a million corpses. Well…almost…


	15. Arkham (the Ex-Boyfriend)

Lightning and rain, thunder and fierce wind. Could it have been any more fitting, any more clichéd to the events that had first set all of this ascension into effect? When a monster prowls the castle, seeking out its next victim, it surely needs the music of the thunderstorm to emphasize that, indeed, it is a night of fear, and a night of prowl. When these clichés were full realized, given over to reality as a bride, then surely the world would see power for what it was. And in this case, that power was holding life in your own hands. And ending it.

Because indeed there was a thunderstorm raging tonight, and Poison Ivy dearly desired to soak herself within it, if only to advance her own growth, to drink deeply the waters of the earth to her fill and ascend further than ever. But it was coming. Indeed, it was coming. There was no going back. She would reveal herself fully for what she was, on this night, for the world needed to know her. It would love her before the end. It would… it truly would…

The castle stood so beautifully pit against the back canvas that was the greenish hued moon, so large and bearing down upon the rest of the world. Watching her. An anticipatory spectator.

"Well this is it," she sighed, a contented smile upon her face as she observed the colossal towering structure of steel and old stone that was Gotham's very infamous neighbor, Arkham Asylum. Arkham stood some ways out, built onto a mass of a cliff that overlooked the wide, black River Jeremiah hundreds of feet below. Bane had parked the limo just outside of its gates, hidden well inside of a thick brush. The plan on reaching their cold friend for the evening was reserved to the difficult part, but the plan on returning… it had far less ease to it. Once she killed, and the bodies became more noticeable than the wondrous décor of the dark castle, then there would be issues. How many bodies would she be able to resist creating? How much self-control did she have?

She could practically feel her hormones raging, could intensely feel the heat of sexual passion that proceeded every murder she committed. This tight latex helped her little in regards of controlling just how _good_ it felt.

"B-Bane, I'm scared…" she blurted out, understanding little her ability to dare the words out, but they needed to be said. "I don't know how well I can control myself…"

Bane grunted loudly, but weakly all the same, his guttural sounds shaking as he produced them. "Kill…"

_Kill_. Such a beautiful word, so poetic in its simple form, and it had multiple semantics. Indeed, kill tonight meant little more than its true, pure form, but caution had to be exercised. The eradication of the human race could never be realized if she were killed here tonight, let alone imprisoned. She had no intention of ever having to call this horrid place her home. Indeed, Arkham would come to serve a greater purpose, for when the plant-wide decimation began, she would claim Arkham as her first true stronghold: it was far more fortified than the Turkish Bathes, and it would suit well to be one of the stronger seeds of Eden.

"Alright, Bane, we can go now. I can't sit here forever." She took a deep breath, her eyes glancing into the passenger seat. They had had to move George up into the front because once Freeze was in their company, he would need the back, being such a tall, broad man. Bane had not been particularly enthralled with the idea of hosting the dead body as up close and personal company, but Ivy's word was law… George was here to stay. Even as she glanced up at him, she stroked the corpse's cheek softly, whispering tenderly to it, "We'll be back soon, okay. I promise. Just wait a little bit for us and we'll be back. We're going to bring a new friend." She said this in such a way as to assure the dead man that all would be well, that he did not need to be afraid of the raging storm outside. She kissed his cheek lightly, hugging him tightly as if George were whimpering, and needed a more physical reassurance. "Just stay here, okay. I'll be back."

She glanced over at Bane, who was staring straight ahead, silent as always… crying behind the mask that hid his face. _What is reality? What is existence? None of it bears any fruit… not anymore… _

"Move it, Boulder Boy. We've got work to do."

Bane nodded, pushing the door open, and the two of them exited the car quickly, Ivy producing her wide, lime green umbrella as she did. The rain beat well against it, longing to touch her, but she denied it of its wishes. She was for the pleasure of humans tonight, but the rain would get its chance soon. Soon, she would dance naked in the rain, for hours on end, surrounded by the corpses of thousands of Gothamites… she would dance in Eden's honor.

The two of them strode up to the massive black gate of Arkham, which thankfully was protected with a walkway roof. Once the two of them were bundled underneath it, Bane dripping in the soakingness of the rain, Ivy lowered her umbrella and walked towards the booth where the gate guard sat, watching a tiny television set on his desk and laughing hysterically at the _I Love Lucy_ re-run that was currently showing. Ivy knocked hard upon the window with her gloved hand, and the guard jumped, startled by the sudden noise. He swiveled around in his chair, a man of his late fifties, and gasped when he saw the beauty that stood before him on the other side of the glass.

"Mama sita, indeed, eh!?" The guard praised her, winking with a thumbs up as he studied her figure closely. Ivy, repulsed instantaneously, looked up at Bane. She nodded at the man, her disgusted face a clear indication of bounty. Bane nodded, moving forward at once. "What can I help you with, pretty little la- AAGH!"

Bane's hand sailed right through the open hole in the middle of the glass and wrapped around the guard's throat. The titan man twisted his wrist to the right, and the loud snapping of the man's neck issued greatly even through the sound of the storm about. The guard fell dead, face first into his desk, and Ivy clapped Bane lightly on the backside as she praised, "Well done, useless. Now, the gate activator should be inside."

The two of them made their way around the guardhouse, and Bane ripped the doorknob off of the entryway with the ease, throwing the door back behind them, into the storm, as Ivy made her way into the room. She pushed the guard off of the counter and he fell to her feet, uncovering the gate button he had fallen over. She pressed it with a joy most passionate in her heart, and her beats skipped joltingly as she heard the loud hum of the gate sliding open outside.

"I'll take this," she whispered, removing the guard's set of keys that hung around his pants loop. She jingled them in Bane's face. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"

"Fun?" Bane repeated.

"Why yes, of course. He's on gate shift, but these are still keys to several, several other doors. And behind doors, Bane… well, behind doors are wondrous surprises just waiting to be discovered. We're treasure hunters, Bane, so let's explore together."

She laughed rather wickedly for a girl of her tastes as she pushed roughly past him and back into the rain, her umbrella out once more as she passed through the now open gate, Bane trailing fast behind her. The walk up to the castle doors was rather lengthy, a curving rock road that hosted the crown of the massive ravine beneath, though walled in on the sides, thankfully. Ivy took her time, of course, had had gently grazing the side rail as she looked down into the black water so very far below.

"The décor is suitable," she noted to Bane, suppressing a snort. "Very gothic. I think I'm going to have fun here."

"Fun…" Bane nodded weakly still. Although his strength was finally returning, it was still happening slowly. Ivy's poison had gotten more potent, more deadly. His small kiss back at the hideout had cost him a great deal of energy. She had become deadlier. So much deadlier. And he could feel her ambitions practically exploding outward. If a small kiss had utterly fatigued him in the most painful way… well, what we he thinking? No man had survived yet, save for him, and he truly was not a man as much a beast. The human race stood no chance against her. If she decided to end your life, there was no escaping it. He longed for the day when she would finally kill him…

Upon reaching the massive front door to the main part of the complex, the sign above the doors reading **Intensive Treatment**, Ivy gestured at him to open them. Bane obeyed lumbering forward and pushing hard, the loud creak so powerful against the rain and thunder.

The main lobby within was a massive, quiet chamber, lit by hundreds of yellow lights sprawled across the ceiling with thick black wires, paintings adorning the walls of Arkham's past of wardens, all smiling or frowning down upon those who walked within the halls that they had once commanded. A large circular desk stood in the center of the room, where a blonde haired woman sat at a computer, her white nurses uniform evident tagging her as **Mary**. Well, hello Marry, I'm Death.

Mary looked up as the two of them approached, Ivy smiling sweetly as she came. The receptionist's eyes widened as she took in their very bizarre appearances, and briefly, guilt overtaking her, she wondered if Ivy was some sort of strange hooker. But the thought had to pass. Just because someone dressed funny, you could not assume that they were a hooker…

"May I help you?" she asked kindly, trying to make up for the thought. Ivy smiled sweetly, bending forward across the counter so that the two of them were eye level. Mary bent back a bit, uncomfortable with just how close the woman before her was. Ivy's green eyes were filled with longing. The most intense longing. "M-may I help you?" Mary stressed more intently.

"Mary…" Ivy whispered statically.

Mary's heart skipped a beat. This woman, whoever she was, was creeping her out.

"Are you looking for someone, maam?" she stressed intently, her hand creeping in a most subtle fashion for the button built into the underside of the desk. One press of that button and a security team would come running… Bane moved forward to stand beside Ivy, his hand firmly planted upon Ivy's shoulder. Ivy grinned, her teeth flashing almost like fangs.

"I'm going to kill you now," Ivy whispered, keeping the same focused face, with those same intent, staring eyes. Mary panicked. She moved her hand quickly but Bane's reached out and grabbed the woman's arm. Mary gasped, trying to scream out, but Ivy's forced a gloved hand firmly against the woman's mouth, while her other hand rose quickly. Her poisoned knife glinted in the lamplight. Quickly, Bane forced the woman down onto the desk as Ivy raised the knife and stabbed down, the blade entering the back of the woman's head. Mary the receptionist made a deeply pained noise but Bane held her forcibly face down into the wood, and Ivy stabbed repeatedly, again and again, each time inserting the blade into a different section of the poor woman's skull.

Mary stopped struggling before soon, blood dripping down from Ivy's knife as the Venom Queen stopped her savage slaughter, breathing hard as she reached orgasm. Ivy fell to her knees, her lungs pumping rather viciously as she gestured from the woman to Bane, and fortunately, Bane got the message at once. The giant hoisted Mary onto his shoulder and searched about quickly, scanning the room around them for some indication of a hiding place. He found one back near the entrance doors, a supply closet for janitors. Although it was locked, Bane's forcible twist on the knob ruptured the lock within and he was able to pull it open, throwing Mary's body inside and slamming the door shut with haste. By the time he had returned to Ivy, she was climbing slowly to her feet, her face wild with the passion that had just ensued.

"You get rid of her?" she struggled to say, her chest pounding hard.

"Yes."

"Good dog, good. So, then…" She relaxed herself in place and handed Bane the knife, careful not to drip any of the woman's blood onto her outfit. She scanned the higher corners of the chamber, seeking out any potential cameras. She had acted before thinking. _Self-control, Ivy, you have to have self-control!_

There did seem to be one camera, situated in the top left corner of the room, but fortunately for them, the light was out. The camera was not currently turned on. Mother Nature was on their side!

"Alright, Bane, you know the drill. Find the evidence room and collect for the popsicle. I'm going to run a few errands, okay? I'll be waiting for you in the freezer."

She slapped his chest as she began to walk around the circular desk, hitting the Turbo button ever so lightly, not enough to activate it, but rather enough to remind him of its purpose. Bane nodded.

"Freezer…yeah…" He turned away, his head swimming, as it always did when she looked at him like that. Before they had set up an initial plan for infiltrating Arkham, Ivy and Bane had tracked down one of the guards of this mighty castle at his home. After much severe torture, the man, who had been named Davidson, had been all too willing to give them a detailed account of Arkham's layout, a map that he had kept in his garage, along with _notes of interest_. These _notes of interest_ were some of Arkham's more notorious names, for the necessary caution of the guards posted on duty. One of the notes enthralled Ivy with a bitter need, and she had memorized the positions well, allowing Bane to take the layout map with him as he made his way to find the supply room.

Up the right wing hall behind the desk, there were office doors littering either side, and she dared not disturb them. Not yet. She had two points of focus today, and she could only hope that opportunities would arise on her way to them. _Red Wing_. Both of them were in there, and _his_ just happened to be the closest…

She desperately wanted to see him. He was everything that she needed at the moment: power, acknowledgment, desire… He was a man of true quality to fulfill those roles, and the thought of helping him see true ascension was all too poetic. He had taken what he wanted with a force unperceived by the common clichés: intellect. With intellect, he had built an empire. And with an empire, he had commanded the fruit of his work: the minds in the masses.

And now he deserved her… if only for a short time.

The Red Wing was labeled on the guide charts as two wards northward. The halls were deserted at this time of night, of course. Arkham Asylum was almost dead. It was funny how something like that could initiate such a discomforting feeling. It was almost too easy, this entire process.

Stepping through a sanitation ward where inmates enjoyed private showers, she walked past a desk hidden to the side in a small enclave. She did not see the man sitting there at first, but he saw her walk by, quite confident in her stride, and he quickly jumped up.

"Excuse me!" he called out to her. She jumped once more in the night, spinning around to face the young man who had coming at her with a black device in hand that resembled an iron straightener. "Miss, I'm not sure who you are, but I need to see a pass, please."

"A pass?" she repeated innocently, brandishing at her breasts with her gloved hands in a most suggestive way. The man noted them but looked up quickly, his face tightening. It was not every day you came across the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in tight rubber latex. She had the body of a goddess, and the atmosphere of a queen. Shifting slightly to hide the bulge that was growing in his pants, he cleared his throat.

"Y-yeah, a pass. This is the Sanitation Wing, if you didn't know. It's pretty late, are you here for a visit?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Ivy replied, smiling sweetly as she raised one of her gloved hands. The mirror clipped open at once and the pheromones hit the man at once, his eyes dilating as a peaceful expression washed over him. Ivy approached him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in close. "Would you like to help me find a certain someone? I'm _lonely_…" She felt his boner between her legs and played to that advantage, squeezing her thighs tightly around it. The man gasped, his breathing pacing madly as his mouth dropped. His lips came so close to hers but she pushed his head back. She would kill him after he had helped her. He was no use to her dead, not for the next few minutes, at least.

"Anything…you want…" He gave a stupid little giggle, a man enthralled by the effects only a marijuana high could induce.

"Thanks," she grinned, pinching his cheek. "The Red Wing. Will you escort me?"

She strategically placed his hands upon her hips, so that he could feel… so that he would obey. He made a few vertical moments, positively drooling in place, and she had to hold his head straight, so that he could focus upon her.

"I said, will you escort me?" she repeated, emphasizing the word _escort_ fiercely.

"Yeah! Yes, of course… of course… yeah, of course…" He looked dreamily down at the floor as he took her hand in his and led her down the way, feeling as if he was the luckiest man in the world. He loved her. She was all that he cared about, all he wanted. To be in her presence was beyond the dream that shifted into reality, and he deserved only death, for how could he be pure enough, be _worthy_ enough, to touch her like this!? She had come to take him away from this world… she was the angel that would collect him… no… not an angel… a _goddess_! "Goddess…" he mumbled to himself. Ivy smirked. _You got that right, buddy_.

The Red Wing had a special name for its lightly colored scarlet lamps, dim in their luminescence, and several steel bolt doors, heavily reinforced and windowed, littered either side. Names there did adorn these doors, fit into little white jacket sleeves upon the framework. **Wesker, Arnold. **She could hear something strange in there as she passed it. A sort of mumbling, but a sound like someone who was whimpering and pleading. An argument, perhaps? **Crane, Jonathon**. Nothing came from this room, though as she passed, she swore that she saw a silhouette finely pronounced against the moonlight spilling in through the cell's distant window, though as soon as she saw it, the shadow ducked away and vanished. **Zeus, Maximilian. **A soft humming, so rhythmic and like a man who had all the pleasures in the world and all the time to acknowledge them for their beauty. **Tetch, Jervis**.

"YOU!" From this room, there came the most horrible scream, and a shadowy figure suddenly ran at the door. Ivy stopped in her tracks, staring in horror as the man on the other side of the glass banged against the door, his eyes bulging mad, flecks of orange hair flying everywhere. "YOU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, MURDERESS!? YOU GO BACK TO YOUR CASTLE, YOU GO BACK! STOP HAUNTING ME! STOP _FOCKING_ HAUNTING ME!"

"Hey, now…" the mesmerized guard snorted, his eyes zoning in and out as he pointed a shaking finger at the madman. "Shush, now, hey-o, boy… shush…"

"Damn Red Queen, coming to haunt me! You can't get me in here! You can't!"

The little man turned on his heel and ran into the shadows, Ivy snickering as she shook her head. As she said on the night she murdered Woodrue, "It's a jungle in here."

"Yeah… love those trees, hee hee! Haha! Love the monkies and the birds and the-"

She placed a hand over his mouth. "Enough talk, my dear. I haven't found the right man yet."

He sniffed intently at her glove, and she could feel his tongue wagging against the rubber. Repulsed, she pushed him away, fighting the most monstrous urge to kill him right there and then. She turned her back on him, seeking more urgently the name she wanted to see the most.

**Yowzman, Klinger. **She could hear him whispering things, terrible threats and children's songs…

**Jones, Waylon**. Was that a growl she heard? It was inhuman, to say the least, and accompanied by the most disturbing sound of someone _smelling_ the air…

"Delicious morsel," a voice said from behind that door. "I bet you could feed me for a night or so…"

This came accompanied by the sound of licking lips, and Ivy hurried along, not wishing to see what was inside of the pitch-black tank of a nightmare.

And finally, at last, she came to the name that she had pursued the most. It was a door off to the left side, next door to the cell belonging to someone named **Day, Julian** (who, from what she could hear, seemed to be repeating one word: _July…July…July…._). The name upon the door she had found, with a pacing heart, was **Edward Nygma**.

_Edward…_

She turned to the guard, pointing at the door. "Please?" she asked kindly, her eyes twinkling.

The guard was all too enthralled to comply, and he took his ring of keys happily, jingling them with joy, for he knew that if he served the goddess, and served her well, he may get to kiss her! And oh how he wanted that kiss! He held up a bright green key, holding it before her face, and she nodded, smiling at him and silently urging him on. The guard forced the key into the door's lock, and turned it to a loud _click_.

Ivy, to be safe, blew yet another strong dose of pheromones into the man's face, and he practically fell weakly to his knees, gazing up at her with pure adoration and worship.

"Wait out here for me, like a good dog," she begged, stroking his hair affectionately. "If you wait for me, I'll reward you. Will you do this for me?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" He reached out for her legs with shaking hands but she backed away, into the door, blowing him a kiss as she slipped into the room, hitting a button beside the door in the hall as she did. It was labeled **Light Switch 13**.

The lights inside of Edward's cell blasted on, and she closed the door behind her.

It was pitiful. The cell was tiny, barely able to hold a man of such brilliant intellect. The floors were uncared for, dirty by years of negligence on the Arkham staff's part, and the redwood desk that they had supplied for Edward was old and decrepit, rotting before her very eyes. It stunk terribly in this room. Her eyes shifted to the bed hanging before the great, barred window. Shattered glass littered the windowsill and rain was spewing in, falling on top of the shaking man who lay upon the old bed, barely covered fully by the worthless brown sheet that they had provided for him.

His red hair was mattered and dog-like with years of neglect, and so many tufts had been ripped away, probably through violent conflicts related to his time spent here with the other inmates. Even with the sudden light having been switched on and the door being opened and closed rather loudly, Edward Nygma slept on, his face squelched into a state of fear, and pain. He seemed to be dreaming, and it did not seem to be a very good dream.

Ivy fell to her knees beside him as he slept, stroking his hair softly in hand as she watched him softly snore. Edward suddenly stopped jerking in his sleep, and his eyes snapped open.

Dark, insane brown eyes met intense green, insane eyes. They bore into each other, silently exchanging hidden greetings that they themselves were not fully aware of. Edward pushed himself back against the wall, his mouth hanging open as he beheld Ivy in all her wonders, her smile soft, and assuring. She held up a hand, waving her fingers.

"Eddie…"

_Eddie? _That name seemed to have an instant effect upon him. He gasped, looking more terrified and more stony than ever before. And in the last few years of his incarceration, Edward Nygma had experienced pain beyond countless years… an eternity contained below a decade. Below half a decade.

"Who are you… who are you… who are you…?" His eyes went out of focus as he said it. He turned away from her, staring intently at the wall opposite him. "Sending whores now? Yeah, lots and _lots_ of whores…"

Ivy frowned darkly. A death sentence. "Pardon?"

"You're gonna get _EATEN_!" He screamed the last word as he spun around, pouncing at her with his hands tossed out like a lion's. She stepped back at once, allowing him to hit the floor hard, chin first, where he doubled over in pain, a yelp sounding off. Ivy turned to face the door, and she saw the young guard outside in the hall looking through…but the stupid grin was still upon his face, and he was obviously still mesmerized beyond his own understanding. Good.

Ivy stamped down hard upon Edward's stomach, pressing the heel deep into him, and he cried out in pain, grabbing at her leg to try to push her off. She did not budge, fighting against his force and keeping her heel planted firmly into him.

"Calm down and I'll remove it," she snapped, pressing down harder. "Calm down now and I'll raise my foot!"

"Ughh! Aggh!"

"I said, calm down! Stop struggling!"

"Letmegoyoubitch!" The words seemed to all come out as one, tears falling down his face as he plead with her.

"I've given you my command."

"Ight! Ight!" He released her leg and stopped struggling, and Ivy stayed loyal to her promise, removing her heel at once. But she reared back her leg, then, and allowed herself the pleasure of kicking Edward across the face. The man screamed in pain as he went rolling away, blood shooting out from his nose as he went. For a brief moment, Ivy remembered her torment of the shopkeeper who had provided the very outfit she wore now… and it made her smile to remember that. Edward Nygma was rolling around on the floor, tormented in the same exact way. Her heart was empty. She was cold inside. A true sociopath.

"Dry it up, Eddie, my visit has to be brief and I don't want it soiled with tears."

"You _itch_!" Edward screamed, staring over at her with bloodshot eyes. Ivy winked. "Just who do you think you are!?"

"It's pronounced _bitch_, Eddie. I know, because I am one. As for who I am… well, you know, Edward. You've known for quite a while. But in essence, truly without a doubt, I am Poison. Poison Ivy, of course, but please… I prefer myself in all my perfection. I am _Poison_. Call me Poison, please, Edward, I'm begging you…"

She dropped down onto her knees once more, staring intently at the broken man. He looked at her with the wildest expression.

"P-poison?"

"Oh, say it again…" She sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she said the word. "Say it again, Eddie, say it again…"

_Say it again, Eddie… say it again… and that voice… why is all of this coming back….?_

His mind was reeling so many questions. Far too many questions. The world thrived on questions, and in the case of the poor Edward Nygma, the questions would never hide themselves. They were the essence of breath, and the desires of his soul. To question all was to know all. And knowledge made him a god….surely it made him a god…it had to! It had to!

"Poison?" he questioned again, backing up against the wall so as to stay away from the crazy woman's heels. She opened her eyes, her cheeks blushing red.

"Oh, I love it when I hear that word. That word… it's so _sexual_, isn't it? Infectious and crippling. It tells me of what I am: power over the human body. Overwhelming, and unpredictable, unstopped. Limitless in my destruction. That is the essence of Ascension, Eddie. To fully grasp the change within us all. I breath that Ascension, Eddie, because I am destined for the greatest thing. And you… you too sought Ascension, and for time, you held your power. But Mother Nature chose to take it back… I wonder why that was, Eddie…"

"Stop calling me…. STOP… no don't call me that!" Edward was getting very upset now, more upset than simply being kicked in the face. He hated that name! Hated it with all of his heart! Ivy, enthralled, beamed at him.

"Yes! Edward, exactly, _you_ grasp the idea of Ascension as I do! Isn't it beautiful!? You called yourself the "Riddler", yes? Not because it meant you had the greatest of intellectual abilities, but because you _knew_ that the _essence_ was there! You _are_ the Riddler, without any identity, and when you realized it, you took power and control!" She spread her arms out, laughing viciously as her heart broke with happiness. "This is why I had to come and find you, Riddler! This is why! I had to show you that I too found the Ascension! I have become Poison, as I was always meant to be! And you know me, Riddler! You've known me since before this realization!"

Edward stared, unsure as to how to take this uprising of events. Reality was crashing in, warping all manner of perception. He knew not how to grasp the current situation, or how he would be expected to look at it with ease. She scared him. Scared him… and enthralled him. "Who… who are you…?"

"I've already told you, Riddler. I am Poison. But before I was Poison full realized, I lived by a lie. And the lie was ashes to my meaning. She was a seed, a mere pod containing the truth of it all." She grinned at him. "I _was_ Pamela Isley, Riddler. Now, the mere _corpse_ of her."

And the Riddler gasped. His eyes widened, his expression fully mystified beyond all other manner of perceptions. She had come back to him… years of dreaming of a return to those old sexual escapes with Pamela Isley, and now… now she knelt here, in his cell before him? Was it truly her!? How could this be!?

"This is impossible…" he gasped. He shook his head, hardly daring to believe in the situation as it presented itself. The mind was a manuscript, ever changing because without a good story, nothing could be genuinely told in its necessity. Now, seeing this as it was, he was sure that his mind had become a book, to have dots and scribbles set it where changes were neither called for, nor particularly done well. "No, you're not, you're deceiving yourself, you're lying!"

"Believe what you want, Eddie…"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" he screamed, tearing tufts from his hair by the fistfuls.

"…but I am what I am, Riddler, as you are. I am Poison fully realized, and you are Riddler, unquestionable. We are what we are because we have ascended. Now, naturally, this would have out you in my good books, as I am seeking out the survival of only the Ascended… but Riddler… you have allowed yourself to fall to Man."

Edward stared, incredulously and by far most intently questioningly at her. He looked broken, hurt beyond his ages and silently begged her for some comfort. Just the tiniest bit. But Poison Ivy had none for him, as she had none for the rest of mankind's depravity.

"You had the chance to take Gotham and the world by storm, you had them in your hand, a beacon of hope for the future that you sought to build in your would-have-been image… but you allowed the mammals to drag you down, and force you into chains. And this cannot be forgiven by the goddess who is Mother Nature, Edward."

"Shush…"

"Edward! Edward! EDWARD!' she pressed.

"SHUT-UP!" Edward Nygma sobbed hysterically, jumping to his feet and running at her with his arms stretched out madly, losing all sense of humanity as he became primitive, a beast of a man.

"Oh, and Edward, one other thing," Ivy sighed passionately, and when he clashed with her, it was only to be swept into her arms, her mouth biting hard into his lips as she kissed him with the most passionately contrived way, a true longing of a lover's frenzy overtaking her senses as she rewarded him with death. Edward was taken aback, frozen into a stone of a man as his ex-girlfriend (or she who claimed to be) kissed him as if she would never kiss a man again. When she pulled away, and Edward Nygma's body shut down almost instantaneously, she breathed into his face, "I _am _poison."

Edward gagged all too loudly, all too horribly, his tongue (greened with intense toxicity) shooting out through his blackened lips as his eyes widened. He clutched at his throat, and Ivy aided him, pushing hard against his temple as the once great Riddler fell dead onto the floor, staring beyond the ceiling and Heavens as his veins burned with vats and vats of poison. Ivy stared down at her latest murder, admiring the corpse of her ex-lover with a sort of maddened intensity. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she truly saw the most cared for art imaginable in the way he lifelessly concentrated upon his killer, his body seemingly shrunken by the power of wrath that she had brought upon him.

"I love you…" she whispered to him, bending down and offering one last kiss upon his dead lips. She held it there for several seconds, before pulling back, the taste of his saliva still satisfying even after all these years. "I love you so much…worthless mammal." And with one last repulsed look at the lifeless form of Edward Nygma, the fallen Ascended, Poison Ivy turned on her heel and marched away.

Back in the corridor, she leaned against the wall beside the intoxicated guard, staring breathlessly at the opposite wall. She felt so happy that she had been given the chance to end Edward Nygma's life. She could only come to hope that more chances would come like this. It all meant so well now to realize that killing those that you loved, or had once loved, meant something special. A wondrous connection that made murder even more beautiful than it could ever be. If she could indeed have more chances to slaughter those that she held a more personal connection to, then perhaps someday she could perfect her artistic technique and swell in the masses of universal portrayal: for she saw it as none but degradation.

The mesmerized guard stared longingly at her, and she smiled softly, pulling him in and snuggling him against her breasts. He moaned loudly as she held him close, feeling so much peace in her heart.

"Caress me for a few seconds longer," she whispered to him, allowing him to fully indulge upon her rubber clad body for a little while, at least. But not too long. Bane may already be finishing with his first chore, and she needed to ensure that Freeze was ready when he arrived. The guard began to lower himself down to a more personal area, but she did not mind. She welcomed it. Just knowing that she had such power over her slaughter meat was gratifying and it made her feel elation as it had a hundred times before. "Do what you will… and then place a call into Victor Fries's cell. He…oh…" She winced as he bit down upon a spot where she had no expected. But she held him in place nonetheless. "Tell him his sister is coming to pay him a visit…"

And once he placed the call, he would rewarded with the ultimate. A kiss…from an angel of death.


	16. Arkham (The Snowman Freed)

_At last…_

"Hey, boy-o… ha-ha… hey man…"

"You sound like you're drunk, Bogee? You okay?"

"Yeah, man, I am _absolutely…_ absolutely wonderful…" Bogee sighed as Ivy stood nearby, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently. Bane could be coming at any moment… and so too could the mass of guards who may have even now discovered her handy work back at the entrance. She stared at him pointedly, but the pheromones had done far too much to addle him into coherent logic. "I have a lady… she's such a beautiful lady…"

"Um… good for you?" the voice said out of the phone. The guard who spoke sounded annoyed. Perhaps Bogee was not very popular. Well, that was okay. He would be dead in just a few more seconds.

"She wants to see Freeze," Bogee sighed passionately. "His sister. Yeah, she's the sister… the sister…."

"Freeze's sister, huh? Are visiting hours even-"

"Yeah, yeah… for a bit, anyway. Let her in… huh…." He swayed on the spot, a giggly sort of grin decorating his features.

"Er… okay… sure. Why not? Hey, is she fine? Have a nice little booty and all that?" The man on the other end tried to say it as quietly as possible but the phone speaker was still too loud to hide his words, and when Ivy heard them, her heart raged. Her mind constricted. _Kill… kill… kill... _She practically clawed at the wall, her rage burning with fresh desires.

"Oh, man, yeah… she's so beautiful… so beautiful…" Bogee whispered, gazing at Ivy as if he loved her so dearly. Ivy cracked her neck, walking towards him.

"Okay, good man, need some good show. Tell her to head on up, then."

As soon as Ivy heard this, she took the phone from Bogee and hung it up, whilst simultaneously pulling him forward by the chin and subjecting him to her kiss.

"Mm," she moaned, forcing as much hemotoxin as she possibly could into his body, hating him… hating him so very much…

Seconds later, when Bogee lay dead upon the floor, his poison filled face stricken with eternal horror in its expression, Ivy left him lying there as she made her way towards the end of the hall. The steel reinforced door had a window here as well, and she could just barely make out parts of the heads of two guards who stood positioned inside. Oh, how yummy…

"Hey, Ice-head, you got a visitor," she heard one of the guards inside say. "Your sister's here to see you."

"Sister?" inquired the voice of her pursuit. It was the voice of the Ascended one himself, that wondrous Victor Fries who had shown her that not all hope had been lost for this pathetic world, that she could be joined in her self-sought divinity… She tapped the button on the side of the door and it slid upward, a vertical motion allowing her entryway. She walked gracefully inside, a smile plastered upon her face as she came to stand between the two guards. The room inside was _freezing_. The temperature had been lowered to some abnormal kind of way, and she could actually see a blue mist floating about the bed in the center. And upon that bed, there he sat, clad in dirty looking prison garb, armorless and weak. His skin, always the intense blue that it had been since she had first begun to fantasize about him, was paled by the weakness that these living conditions had brought upon him. His head was bald… and yet he was still beautiful. At once, she began to lust for the man, but the romance had to come later. She had to get him out. _Kill these two guards and then get him the hell out of here, Ivy_, she told herself.

"Brother, dear," she offered in voice, smiling sweetly and speaking seductively. "I've heard you've been blue." Lame, of course, and in every manner of respect repulsive to the ears, but she felt zany. Zany, and lightheaded. Everything that had transpired this evening, from her brutal stabbing of the receptionist to the last kiss she had ever shared with Edward Nygma had excited her and her hormones were on edge. It was hard to stay focused, hard to stop the heat that her body was emitting.

The two guards who stood on either side of her ogled their eyes wide and their breath caught, stricken by her beauty and the sweet smell that was coming off of her.

One of them, a bearded man who seemed to already be sweating beneath his guard cap, stepped forward by an inch. She actually felt him sniffing the air around her.

"Don't pardon us, ma'am… you can speak freely," he promised her, grinning stupidly. Ivy, of course, felt repulsed by the idea of these men even speaking to her. Who were they, to speak to her without her divine permission? Who were they, to break the law of Mother Nature, to commit the crime of _existing_!? Angered, sickened by the very idea of them, she had to kill them. And she had to kill them now. Her hormones were simply on fire, and if she did not kill soon, she may collapse where she stood. It was a struggle to wait for much longer…

As quickly as she could, she raised both hands and blew handfuls of pheromones into both of their idiotic faces, and one by one did they fall into the madness that her "love dust" always attributed. They stared about the room in the most drunken state, positively moaning incomprehensible things, and Freeze looked on, bewildered by the scene. Bewildered, of course, but also drawn in by a subtle interest, for as she looked at him, she could see it in his expression. The eyes were the window to the soul: _he recognized her_. Their brief meeting not too long ago, on the night of the Flower Ball, still burned fresh in her mind, as well as how much she had wanted him once he had begun to freeze solid the worthless mammals of Gotham before her very eyes.

She slapped both of the guards playfully upon their chests, smiling at Freeze. "Men. The most absurd of creatures." She led them about the room, walking somewhere over to the left of the door and out of view of the window that looked in. Murder in secret. "We give you life," she told the two morons. "And we can take it away just as easy." She prodded her finger pointedly against the second guard's chest, a younger man who bore a rather stupid looking eyepatch. Well, that was okay, you needed no eye patches where you were going, good sir. The emphasis that she placed upon this final thought was overwhelming, and her scent was getting more fierce, practically eating its way right through her rubber. She had to kill! Now! Now before the world ended, now before she died! If she did not kill now, all would be lost! Murder, baby, murder! She prepared herself, as one would do before consummation.

"Right," the bearded guard snorted.

"Whatever," the eye patch man grinned."

She grabbed the eye patch man's face and pulled him in slowly. "I really am to die for," she told him, and she forced her kiss upon him, pulling away after one long, extraordinarily romantic second of ensuring that only the most lethal dose of poison entered his system. She felt herself lubricate by this, quite horrendously, her scent exploding as she was suddenly overwhelmed by the passion of the act, and she pulled away quickly, spinning around and forcibly grabbing the bearded man's face even as his friend chocked and fell dead onto the floor. With this second guard, she forced a more fierce, and longer kiss upon the fool, focusing as much as she could to pour vats to the gallons of poison into his system, and even as she held him, her tongue practically licking the roof of his mouth, she felt his struggling and silently screaming, but this only made her more hot… it only made her want to kill him even more. To feel his pain was her pleasure. She felt the man die even as she held him, kissing him passionately, and finally did she bring her lips away from the dead man and allowed him to fall onto the floor to join his friend, hot liquid bubbling over her legs as she once more reached a special, poetic orgasm for the evening. She rubbed her lips lightly, overwhelmed by the passion that had just ensued, as when she looked over at Freeze, who sat with his mouth agape, miraculously overwhelmed himself by what he had just witnessed, she smiled, shrugging as if she had no care in the world.

She stretched out her arms, posing as one would for an erotic photograph over the corpses of her latest murders, feeling admiration from Mother Nature sweeping down upon her as she did. _I am proud of you, child_, the feeling said, her evil heart bursting with pride. _I am so proud of you. Kill them, my daughter. Kill them all_.

Freeze jumped to his feet, his face still stricken with amazement. "Impressive!" he gasped, his eyes not able to pull away from his analysis of the dead guards, their faces filled with intense green veins, their eyes almost bulging. They looked like they had died painfully. Ivy smiled, all too rousingly, at Freeze.

"Well I, my most abominable snowman, have been impressed by you." She waved her hips suggestively as she came to stand before him, hoping he would admire her body, hoping he would desperately crave for her… she would not mind if he took her right here, right now, with only the corpses of the worthless mammals to keep them company as they made love… oh, the thought was beautiful, but she did not have much time. She suddenly heard something behind her, in the distance. Screaming. Screaming, and a loud clanging… an inhuman roar like no other… Bane was coming! "In fact," she continued, twisting her fingers together for him to see, "I propose… a pairing." She waved her hips once more as she said it, hoping to arouse him. What she would not give to kiss those blue lips, to taste true ice in her mouth… but he was the only one of whom she had no desire to kiss, because she did not want him dead. He was the only one worthy of life… the only one. But that was okay. She was a genius, an expert of poisons and toxins… she would find a way to make him immune.

Freeze looked genuinely interested, as well as slightly amused as the tiniest smile accompanied an acknowledging nod. "An enticing offer… but…" Ivy's heart froze. But? "What does the lady want in return?"

She felt calm wash over herself once more. For a moment there…

She indicated her answer only by looking down at the Ascended one's private regions for a second, and then, smiled twistedly at him as she turned towards the door. "Let's cool it for now, I've got someone I want you to meet." Ivy leaned against the door and pressed firmly the door release. A ruckus of the loud noise, violent screams and menacing growls, suddenly blasted into their ears as the two of them witnessed Bane. The titan was barreling up the hall, pushing what appeared to be cart not unlike those you find at a shopping center, and piled into the cart was what was obviously the various pieces that came together to produce Freeze's beautiful crystal of armor. Several guards were trying to block his way but Bane bulldozed the useless mammals with ease, knocking them against walls or else crushing them under foot altogether as he pushed his way right into Freeze's cell. Even as the guards came running, drawing their pistols, Ivy pressed the door button once more and the door slid down. Another tap of the LOCK control and the guards were left only to beat against the steel, yammering loudly as they could not force the door open from the other side. Ivy proudly put a hand upon Bane's shoulder, grinning girlishly at Freeze, who observed Bane with such an excited, amazed expression.

"His name," she giggled, "is _Bane_!"

"A laundry service that delivers! Wow!" Freeze joked, shaking his head in utter amusement. "You've truly planned this all out, haven't you, Disease Doll?"

"Disease Doll?" Ivy frowned, walking away from the door, as the guards banged loudly against it and let off several shots with their pistols, but the doors and its window were constructed from army production and were bulletproof. It would take an intentional sabotage of the steel using a welding torch, at best, and Ivy had no doubt that Arkham had one for these kinds of situations. "No, no, not Disease Doll. Poison. I'm Poison. Poison Ivy, if you want, but we'll exchange names and STD's later. For now, you need to throw that hunk of joy on, we have to get you out of here."

"Right there, sure," Freeze nodded, scrambling for the set of armor that Bane had brought for him. As he began to take the first piece out, he nodded at Bane, giving him a smile of thanks. "I really appreciate this, my good man. You've done me and my wife an amazing favor."

Ivy, who was not listening, was standing over in the corner beside the corpses of the guards, positively strangling the eye patch man's body with a most furious expression upon her face. Freeze noticed this too, and stopped in place, staring. Bane placed a massive hand on his shoulder, and Freeze turned around, giving him a questioning look. Bane shook his head, a clear, silent speech of _don't ask, and don't interrupt. It's her thing._

Freeze, slightly disturbed, nodded, and he proceeded to armor himself up.

"You just thought you were going to live another day, didn't you?" Ivy hissed at the dead man, squeezing hard into his Adam's apple, praying to herself that she would beak the bones. "I hate you. I truly hate you. Oh, my goodness, I just don't have enough ways of saying how much I _hate_ you, do I? You stupid-" She slapped his face. "-arrogant-" She beat her fist down upon his nose. "-_mammal_!" She stood up and kicked him hard in the head, breathing raggedly as she forced herself to regain control. Freeze kept looking over, concerned. _Who was this psychotic bimbo anyway?_

Ivy turned to face him, and she blushed, looking embarrassed. "S-sorry…" she mumbled, not looking him in the eyes. Freeze fought off the sudden thought that she suddenly looked very cute. "I just… don't like them…" She cleared her throat loudly. "Anyway, armor, hurry…"

She turned away from him, scraping at the wall as she spoke soft words to herself.

_It's alright. It really is. He's dead, and he looks beautiful now. You killed him, Poison. Relish that thought. Let your heart break with joy. You have nothing to prove to anyone, not anymore. You've won over that mammal. No mutilation is needed to prove anything , Mother Nature. Oh, sweet, sweet Poison… shush, now, don't get upset, no crying. He saw little to nothing. Nothing to be ashamed of. He'll still love you… he still HAS to love you… how could he not love you! HOW COULD HE NOT!? Just… just stay confident. Have faith in yourself, Poison. You're a goddess, and the most beautiful goddess of all. This world will soon belong to you and him both, and he'll practically worship the ground you walk on… and if he doesn't… if he doesn't… then KILL him. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Wouldn't that make you happy!? Why not!? WHY NOT!? _

She stood trembling in a corner for several seconds, green tears falling down her face as she sobbed silently into the wall.

_Kill me…._

She gasped, her mouth trembling. NO! Not those thoughts! Never those thoughts for as long as she drew breath! Those were impossible thoughts, and she could never disgrace herself with such evil words! She had to be perfection! She had to be!

"You okay over there?" Freeze's kind voice asked, for he sounded genuinely concerned.

Ivy turned, wiping her tears away quickly. He was full armored now, the crystal form of empowerment surrounding him with such magnificence, such beauty. Unquestioned and intimidating. She grinned, even as the guards outside in the hall began to blast at the door with the welding torch. Sparks began to fly up outside, but Ivy's adoration of Freeze in his armor was more drawing to her attention.

"What are you, about a fifty big and tall?" she joked, forcing herself to kid around so as to distract herself from the self-damning thoughts for some reason, _now_ of all times, were trying to eat their way inside of her mind…

Freeze shook his head. "No. Always go a size smaller. Makes me look slimmer."

Ivy considered this advice. Not that she needed the advice, of course… but it was still an alluring thought. Clothes and wear mattered little for a world that would soon outlaw them. The children that would someday populate the planet would not insult themselves with garments… the natural body would be law in her perfect world… in her perfect world… _yes…_

Freeze sighed, looking down at something built into his armor's arm piece. Ivy looked too, as he learned forward to show her. There were small crystals set into his arm that seemed to be connected to a power emitter, one that seemed to run throughout the core of the suit, and she was sure that this aided in the refrigeration process. "Auxiliary power…" he moaned. "They've confiscated my generator diamonds. I'm running on empty."

"I'll help you grab your rocks," Ivy offered him, a smile upon her face, for even though the intention had been far less than the sound of it, she did realize just what images the words brought to mind. She blushed a bit. Semantics, Ivy, semantics! Freeze gave her a quick, odd glance, but they were suddenly distracted by a loud clang behind them. The guards had managed to burn a good ways through the door, and now it was rattling on its hinges as they pushed forcibly against it. Several of them were grinning viciously, hooting loudly through the door.

"We've got you now, you murdering bitch!"

"You and tub boy are going down!"

_They'll have blocked access from the asylum. We can't go back the way we came!_

A mad idea suddenly illuminated in her mind, as her gaze turned towards the wall. A truly mad idea!

"Bane, dear," she said quickly, fearfully, her heart racing, "an exit, please!" She motioned at the wall as she slapped Bane's Turbo button. The beast growled viciously as the Venom pumped into his system at high quantity, and Bane stomped forward, taking his fists and slamming them hard against the wall. The room practically shook for a moment, and Ivy, Freeze, and guards alike all froze in place, staring incredulously. It did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Bane stood before an unharmed wall.

_DAMN IT!_ Ivy screamed in her mind. _NO!_

Tears were falling again. This was the end! She had failed! Eden had failed!

"Reinforced steel…not good…" she began to sob, her heart breaking. Eden! EDEN! NO! _I've failed you, Eden! I've failed you! Mother Nature, punish me! PUNISH ME NOW, DESTROY ME! I'VE FAILED YOU!_

Freeze suddenly moved forward, clapping her upon the shoulder as he went. She looked on, her broken hearted face confused as Freeze turned on the water faucet of the sink that stood on the end of the room, set into the wall that Bane had failed to break. Bane and Ivy watched as the water poured into the sink by the masses, and Freeze began to activate a small compartment built into the side of his arm.

An issue of white-blue mist gushed out in the masses, something that reminded her of a spray not unlike nitrogen. She gasped, suddenly realizing what he was going to do, as he turned to look at them with a wicked grin upon his face.

"Always winterize your pipes."

The pipes leading up to the wall began to freeze solid, the trail of pure ice snaking its way up as if it were alive. Ivy ducked, hiding behind Bane, who did not see it coming. Freeze jumped out of the way. The massive pressure buildup of ice suddenly overwhelmed a large portion of the wall, freezing a massive chunk of it into solid water, and the buildup of pressure was just too much for even reinforced steel to comprehend. Solid rock mixed with steel and ice blasted forward as the large portion of wall exploded.

She looked around Bane, staring in amazement at the massive hole to the outside that Freeze had created. The guards outside of the door, their mouths hanging open, began to more intently beat against the door, rocking it so violently upon its hinges. Freeze motioned for her to come, and Ivy ran forward quickly, towards the hole that led to-

She let out a small scream, coming to a halt as she nearly lost her balance, staring down in horror. The hole had led to nothing but a massive drops of hundreds of feet down into the black river of Jeremiah below. _MAD! SIMPLY MAD!_

Freeze looked at her intently. He pulled her forward and gazed pleadingly into her face. "While I retrieve my diamonds at the factory, you and meatloaf here, retrieve my wife!"

Ivy's word suddenly shook on the inside. She gasped, staring at him incredulously as a sudden urge fiery anger rose up inside. Viciousness replaced fear of heights as she looked savagely around, hurt by this suddenness.

"You never said anything about a wife!" she snapped furiously, slapping him on the chest. At that very moment, the door of the cell came off of it hinges as the guards finally finished their work, and Freeze took no time to reply. He grabbed her by the arm and, Ivy screaming as loudly and terrifyingly passionate as her fear allowed her to, the two of them were suddenly plummeting from the hole, falling at terrible speed down the hundreds of feet below towards the black Jeremiah River.

_I'M GOING TO DIE! GOING TO DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!_

It was the only thing she could comprehend as the three of them fell, fell, fell down into the darkness that waited to kill them on the bone destroying way below, even as gunshots fired around them from the guards who were perched in the hole, trying to hit them even as they fell.

Just as the black water was closing in, Freeze twisted in mid-air, grabbing Ivy and pulling her into a tight hug, as he turned his back towards the water, forcing her face into his chest. They hit the water with massive force, slamming into the black depths with an impact that could crush mammoths. Water overtook her world as she waited for the demons of Hell to drag her into eternal damnation…

But no fire and sulfur came for her. Coldness, frozen and terrible in all that it was, overtook her. She opened her eyes, daring to see what the Land of the Dead looked like…

And that was when Freeze surfaced…


	17. Anger in the Forest

"My head hurts," Ivy choked, her eyes going out of focus as she lay her head against the soft padding of the backseat. She was soaking wet from head to toe, dripping what felt like gallons of water all over the nice velvet, and Freeze and Bane were no exception. Freeze took up a great deal of space, and she felt compressed as she squirmed as far as she could against the side door. They were all breathing heavily, having just made a desperate swim back to shore before the authorities could come to search the waters. Ivy had had Bane leave the limo outside of the gates so as to not be closed off, and Bane was hurriedly barreling down an old dirt road that circled the Mountain Timothy, a regional landmark on the outskirts of Gotham.

The woods up here were highly abundant, the wildlife mixed with thousands of low hanging trees and plenty of wildflowers. It would have reminded Ivy of the truth to her views on paradise, had she not been shaking from the cold, breathing erratically from their death defying escape. There was no reasonable explanation for how they still lived. Freeze had explained, of course, as they had made their run for the car, that his suit had been constructed to withstand impacts of that nature, and that by allowing him to be on the underside during the collision with the water, he had been able to absorb the impact of the blow; otherwise, Ivy would not have survived. Bane himself was biologically durable, but she… she was fragile.

There was no denying that Freeze had just saved her life, in more than one way. She may very well have been shot to death, had the guards managed to get into the room in time. She had murdered six mammals and that most likely would have meant no forgiveness on the ends of the Arkham guards. Even now they would be carting away the bodies… those beautiful, beautiful bodies…

"You're fortunate," Freeze told her, resting his head against the seat in equal fatigue. "A fall like that would have done so much more than hurt your head…"

"So you've told me," Ivy breathed back raggedly. Bane, as always, said nothing, had said nothing, but his own breathing was hoarse, and even a man of his power and withstanding had taken a severe beating from what had just happened. "I assume you're going to explain why you neglected to mention you have a wife, now, as I just saved your arse!"

Freeze gave her a dark look, though in the blackness of the seat (they had not turned on the lights, to avoid being spotted by search parties) she could not see it. Though from such a frosty character, there seemed to be much heat coming from that glare.

"What does that have to do with anything? You've saved me, yes, and for that I'm not going to be forgetting you any time soon. I owe you the world. But is there an issue you would like to discuss with me concerning my personals?"

"Only this," Ivy replied, her own tone filling with venom. "I've killed for you, exposed myself completely. Do you think that after this, I'll be able to walk around as I have been? Poison Ivy revealed herself at the Flower Ball, as you will remember, and she revealed herself tonight as well, pruning away six mammals in the process. I am a wanted woman now, same as you. I think after all of this, I deserve to have some reward thrown my way."

"And what exactly is it that you expect from me?"

"Well, for starters," she soothed, placing her hand upon his bulky leg and moving it slowly towards his groin, "an frozen meal with hard ice cubes…"

Freeze snatched at her hand, forcing it away. She jerked her arm back savagely, fire raging inside of her at his rejection.

"I'm a married man!" he snapped. "I've told you this already. Her name is Nora. And I won't whore myself on anyone's behalf save for her own!"

"Whore yourself!?"

"You seem to know a lot about that," he added. Ivy sat in a stunned silence, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing.

"_Excuse_ me!?" she snapped furiously, her green eyes suddenly glowing bright in the dark. The radial luminance burned through the dark and illuminated Freeze's face, and the cold one, even with little understanding of Ivy's biology, knew that he had hit a low. He backed away, suddenly feeling a little less invulnerable. She pointed a threatening finger into his face. "Now, you listen to me… and you listen _damn_ good." Her voice had lowered to the most menacing of tones, a true hatred of bitter iciness that he himself should probably enjoy. "I have sacrificed a _damn_ lot! I have given you _so much_! I have killed, and do you know why? Because I _enjoy_ killing! Do you think it was needed!? Do you truly think I _had_ to kill? No. No, as a matter of fact, I could have easily gotten you out of that crap hole without taking a single life! But I killed because it was fun, and because it gives me sexual arousal when I kill, Freeze! So don't, and I mean _don't, _ever assume that I am a balanced woman, that I can take being insulted like that! I've done things- BANE, STOP THE FOCKING CAR!" She screamed ravenously at Bane, and the titan jumped, slamming his foot upon the brake at once. The limo jerked to an abrupt halt and Bane and Freeze both went flying forward, hitting the wheel and back of the front seat, respectively. George the dead businessman lurched about and hit the dashboard. Ivy's fury alone kept her in place. She yanked hard on Freeze's neck piece and pulled the man slightly forward, the icy one stunned at her sudden strength, and he dared not make a move. Not yet… "I have done some of the most horrible things imaginable during my time on this planet, Freeze, and I have _enjoyed_ it! Enjoyed it so much! Do NOT think that for a moment I wouldn't hesitate to put you through Hell and back, because I can, and you make sure that you don't tempt me! I have an attraction to you, Freeze, and guess what?" Her voice lowered to a deadly whisper. "It's an _unhealthy_ one. It would arouse me to have you finger me right here in this dark back seat, but it would arouse me even more to cut off your fingers and let you bleed in pain as I used them to finger _myself_! Don't you think for a moment that I couldn't do it, either!"

And with that, she pushed him hard against the glass, breathing madly as her eyes bulged, her hands positively shaking uncontrollably, and whether it was rage, insanity, or the most likely mixture was uncertain. Freeze sat there in stunned silence, looking in horror at that crazypath sitting beside him, and truly in that moment he questioned just what he had allowed himself to be dragged into.

Ivy turned in her seat and faced forward, but after a second, she slammed her fist against the door and opened it, stepping out into the cool darkness of the forest outside. She opened the front door instead, where George sat, and pulled the corpse from the front seat. Freeze watched in horror, for the lights suddenly came in the front, and when he saw the horribly rotten, poisoned corpse that she now pulled from the car, he felt vomit lurch into his stomach, and he could only watch in stunned silence as she pulled the dead man out into the road and slammed the door shut behind her. Darkness overtook the interior once more, and Bane nor Freeze dare made a movement, nor spoke a word.

They both could see her shadow outside, as she tossed the dead man onto the floor, and then saw her lower herself as well, vanishing from view. Freeze, afraid of what he may witness but curiosity getting the better of him, gently pushed his way to her side and lightly pulled the handle, pushing one hand against the door so as to not make a sound when he pushed it open slightly.

Even though he could not see her, as she was a little ways up, he could still _hear_ her. And what he heard made his already frozen interior even more frosty, more unwelcoming to the senses of desire. And indeed, dark, evil desire was name.

She seemed to be moaning. Moaning, and from the wet, squishy sounds, kissing something. It sounded as if she were making out with a man in the darkness… but the only _man_ out there was the corpse that had apparently been sitting in this car for the longest time.

"Come on, come inside of me," she was whispering to it, and Freeze, in horror, suddenly heard what sounded like a zipper. He could not tolerate it anymore. He kicked the door open and stepped out into the darkness. The moonlight was heavy as always tonight, and it illuminated the scene quite well. She had opened a front part of her outfit, and it was quite obvious by her silhouette's movements, in addition to her suddenly heavy breathing and sighing, as to what was happening.

"What _are_ you!?" Freeze screamed at her, backing away in horror from the scene.

"Shut up!" Ivy cried, and truly she was crying, her voice shaking with tears as she made love to the corpse. "Just shut up! No one loves me, no one gives a _damn_ about me, do they!? George, here… oh…. Oh, George here has _never_ given up on- on… oh my goodness…." She moaned loudly. "George has never given up on me. He loves me… he's always here…"

"He's dead!" Freeze roared, his own tears falling, as he had never witnessed such horror, such abomination of sexuality, such a horrendous, inhuman act of consummation. "He's a corpse, a dead body! This is…. This is necro- necro-…" He could not finish the sentence, for it came then. His food, frozen into several ice cubes, suddenly emitted from him as he turned on the spot and vomited the cubed ice all over the ground. It was so very painful, so very painful indeed! Never had this happened before, not since his transformation had he had to vomit anything. And now that it came out, his stomach was riddled with pain and his throat felt as if it were being torn. He fell to his knees, breathing raggedly himself as he suffered. _This is inhuman! THIS IS SO INUMAN! WHAT IS SHE!? JUST WHAT IS SHE!? _

"Yes…suffer, Freeze, suffer!" Ivy scowled, laughing insanely, as wickedly as she could, positively amused wand fit to giggles. "Suffer as I do when you reject me! Suffer as I do, when I see mammals _alive_, Freeze! All of them deserve to die! All of them!"

Bane was shaking in his seat, his body trembling with mental torment. He wanted to run. Run as fast as he could and not look back, but simply throw himself into a bonfire or perhaps off of a cliff face when he could drown…drown into nothingness, escaping this nightmare… he beat his head against the steering wheel, screaming for the first time in a long while, losing all of his willpower to comprehend the severity of the situation… he hated her! He hated her, and he loved her! More, he desired her more than he loved and hated her. She was an object for which he had come to associate with breath itself, because the two of them shared the same repulsion, matched perfectly well by the fact that they not only acknowledged their repulsive natures, but enjoyed the fact that they knew of their evil and still continued to live within it. She was what he wanted in a woman: pure evil, because it was the only life he had ever known, and it made him feel joy that nothing else could.

Ivy finally stood up, allowing the corpse of the man to slip out of her, feeling relaxed now. The sex had allowed her to take her mind off of Freeze, for that was the purpose of George: he was always going to be there for her, to take her mind off of it all… dead body or not, he made her feel alive. He made her feel wanted. Not like Freeze. No… no, Freeze had to enjoy only the company of his wife. His damn wife… _Nora_, he had called her…

Nora…

Such a beautiful name, and she could only imagine how beautiful she must be in reality. A man of his tastes, of his power… surely he sought only the best. But she, Ivy, was more beautiful than any other woman in the world. She was perfection, not Nora! She was the goddess of the planet, not Nora! She was the dream of all men, not Nora! Nora, that worthless mammal who had poisoned the mind of the Ascended Freeze….

She wanted him! She had killed for him, had enjoyed taking those six lives back at Arkham (Edward having been a personal treat for herself)… and she would always be willing to kill for a man like him… if only Nora had never existed…

_If only Nora could die…_

And then, her heart skipped a beat. Realization hit her hard, and she suddenly became very much aware of the way the trees moved in the wind of this night, how the moon bore down upon her, and almost seemed to smile at her, as it issued the secret message to her mind…and to her black heart… and to her unpurified soul…

_Truly_, she thought to herself, gasping as the realization. _What!? You mean… you mean that truly? You mean that so seriously, don't you? _

_Yes,_ the moon seemed to say, and she could almost see it nodding at her.

_And… and do you think I could do it?_

_ Why not? This world, and all that is in it, belongs to you, to do with as you please, goddess… never ever forget that. If you do, then you are worthless and undeserving to call yourself Mother Nature, for Mother Nature rules over the Earth and commands that what is hers be administered without question… you kill because it is your right to kill… it is your right to experience pleasure from killing. So if you want something, and it brings you joy, is that not a double incentive to kill for it? Take what is yours, because the world has no right denying you of it… take what is yours, and enjoy it forever… _

_Yes… yes you're right_, she whispered in her mind, connecting the pieces of the front of her suit that opened to reveal her body. _Yes, I could do it. I could KILL her… if I murder Nora… then I would have so much pleasure… and I would be happy. My happiness is all that matters. And not only that, but without her… without her…_

Just what could happen, without her? What wondrous dreams could come true, what emotions would be brought to the surface?

_Without her, he would need someone in her place. A replacement queen…_

She smiled deliciously. _Oh, my goodness… just when I thought I couldn't get any more evil…. Oh, thank you, Mother Nature… thank you so much…_

She turned to face Freeze, who was leaning against the wheel of the car, breathing hard in a vain attempt to get his respiratory system under control, frozen tears whisking away as they fell…. Ivy walked towards him, and the frozen one looked up in fear. Strength and brutality, they meant nothing. Mental subjugation and an insight to true evil… it was far worse.

She crouched down, and placed her gloved hands upon his face. He did not struggle. Half of him hoped she would kiss him. If he died here… at least he could forget the horror of what he had witnessed just now quickly… Hell would be for a better distraction…. And even that tormented him.

"Victor," she whispered, testing her hypothesis that the ascended one preferred his false name (of course, if that was what he had chosen to be, then she must simply respect it). "Victor… I'm… I'm sorry…"

She began to cry again, but this time, they were false tears. She hung her head low, her soaked red hair brushing lightly against his armor as she cried, faking a shaking in her arms for maximum effect. "I'm s- so sorry… I'm a bitch. A fool… you love her, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Freeze demanded, his voice gruff and pained. Blue blood was dripping from his mouth. The vomiting had damaged him quite a bit. Ivy looked, her eyes getting puffy from her fake show, directly into his face, admiring his features.

"I mean… I mean… you love your wife so much. Nora… she has a beautiful name, and I… I'm just a jealous idiot… I wanted you, for myself… you were such a beautiful man, and when you rejected me… I just couldn't t-take it… Yes, I make love to dead bodies, but it's because I have no one else…. You're an understanding man, aren't you? Don't you understand? I'm desperate…" She sobbed harder, making sure to stay on subtle terms but also to give it only the slightest degree of exaggeration. Something she had noticed, when it came to true despair interloped by tears, was that true crying actually did sometimes have a way that sounded as if it were being faked. It depended upon the grief and the size of the woman, and she was sure that this could work. Freeze did not know what to say. He simply sat there, staring in silence as he tried to comprehend what she wanted to convey.

"I…"

She put a hand over his lips, shaking her head. _Shut the hell up until I am finished, you stupid bastard! _

"I know you love her… and I realize that… that I can't always have what I want… I admired you for _you_, not for any hope of being with you, even though I want to be… so… so what I'm saying is… I understand…"

"You understand?"

"Yes, I do!" she sighed dramatically, passionately, grinning at him (though she looked more deranged than happy). "I understand! This is true love, the bond between husband and wife! What could be more beautiful!? And I'm the selfish little bitch who tried to stand between that! Well, not anymore, alright! I killed for you and I saved you from Arkham, but I'm going to bring it one step further…"

"You…you are!?"

"YES!" Ivy cried out, standing tall and looking skyward, winking at the moon. "Yes, I am! I'm going to save her! I'm going to save Nora! I promise it! You and her are going to be reunited, and I won't let anyone come between me and that goal. I will kill so many people just to reach her, and ensure that you have your wife! That's my promise! I swear it." She turned and reached out her hand, giving him a soft, assuring face, her features calm and collected. She looked genuinely sorry and genuinely inspired. Freeze, staring in amazement, took her hand without argument and stood, facing her as well.

"You're serious?" he whispered.

Ivy grinned, nodding vigorously. "Yes! Yes, I am! I promise you, this, Freeze, Mother Nature shall bear witness to all of these things. Don't you worry about your wife, Victor! Ivy is going to rescue her. And I shall poison every man, woman, and child who dares to stand in my way! These lips are the deadliest weapon, and they'll be used in your honor, in Nora's name!" She threw her arms around him and pulled him close. He looked startled. "You have my word…"

"Ivy…"

"Poison, love," she said, pulling back without removing her arm around him as she used one to wipe her tears. "Call me Poison."

"Poison, then… I truly appreciate this…"

"Oh, my dear, it's my pleasure, and believe me, I know all about pleasure. I'll get your frozen flower back in one piece. And I'll even remove some of the scum of Gotham in your name. I saved you because I love what you are, who you are. You have my word that I shall serve you towards the end of our goals. We'll take Gotham by a storm, and we will rise above all others!"

"You think so?"

Ivy licked her lips. "Oh, I know so… I can't wait to show you my garden, and the true lengths of my power. It's going to be beautiful."

"You truly are yourself," Freeze acknowledged, nodding. "A poisoned interior that is sweet as can be."

"Oh, no, I assure you," Ivy replied in a deadly voice. "I'm as bitter as they come. Come on, love, come into the car and let's get on the road. The sooner we can get your wife back to you, the better."

"Of course," Freeze nodded, moving at once for the door. Ivy stood there for a moment, smiling darkly as she examined the forest about her. This was perfect. Freeze would lead her right to where Nora was hidden… and then she could kill Nora. When Nora was dead, Freeze would be all hers. He may claim to be immune to the pheromones, but she could fix that. It may be forced, at first, or perhaps she would have to find a way to limitlessly induce him with the pheromones… but she would have him! Nora Fries would die tonight, it was all that Ivy cared about. She was going to win…

_Nora, baby doll, enjoy your last moments… because Ivy is coming, and when she arrives, you'll die. Because you have to die. _

And she turned around, prepared to open the door to the car. She cast one glance at the businessman's corpse, still lying upon the ground… and in that moment, she severed her ties with the man. Blowing him a kiss, she smirked as she climbed back into the car, leaving him there.

_Sorry, George, you were fun, but I've gotten me some fresh meat who will stay fresh. I'll miss you… but honestly, I can do better._

And with that thought, she slammed the door shut behind her, and Bane revved the engine, driving away from the spot as the dead body lay illuminated upon the ground, awaiting the scavengers who would come to eat from it… and subsequently die, when they too swallowed a mouthful of Ivy's poison. Soon, their bodies would pile up and the scavengers who came to eat them would die as well, and the cycle would continue, a spiral of death of Ivy's making. The last days of the mammals at hand.


	18. Snowy Cones (A Frigid Wife)

Night was only a shadow, as were the authorities. And she was the light… yes, she was the light… how could it be any other way?

The Snowy Cones Ice Cream Factory. Abandoned into desolation, of course, years before during the Economic Crash of '85, and now home to the gang members who served its lord of the manor, Freeze. The outside burned brightly with the mixture of several colors: bright pink, blue, and yellow spots of light danced about the massive grinning face of the snowman structure, while flashes of red and blue dashed in triangular waves across its beaming face as well. Cop lights and party lights. The authorities has massed here in the great numbers, at least thirty of them, cops patrolling the area in mass of packs. All of this, Ivy, Bane, and Freeze witnessed from afar, their limo perched quietly in the dark of the shadow cast by the massive, abandoned bank across the road from the factory, some ways down.

This was not going to be easy. Freeze needed to get in there fast, as his auxiliary power was steadily in decline and he would not last in his special armor for much longer… and of course, Ivy had to get in there and murder Nora Fries. There was so much to do and so many things that could stand in their way. If only Ivy had thought to prepare another army, as she had done on the eve before the Flower Ball… but they were all arrested now, being tried for murders and assaults alike, at least those who had survived when their potential victims had failed to fight back… and she had no time to round up some more soldiers, as Freeze's time was running out. He could not survive outside of sub-zero temperature, and the refrigeration power of his armor would not last another hour. They had to move very, very soon.

"So, then, I don't think they all want a smooch this evening," Ivy said, rather half-heartedly. She tapped her fingers against the window of her door impatiently. "What a predicament…"

Freeze, ever careful to not say anything that may set the crazy one off again, patted her shoulder in a comforting way. "Poison, Poison… we know better than to doubt. After Arkham Asylum, I believe that we can pull off just about anything…"

Ivy glared at him. "Then walk in through the front door."

Freeze grimaced. "I think, no. I don't feel like being shot to death."

Ivy smirked. "But we can accomplish _anything_ together."

"Well, I'm assuming there must be something tucked away in your head… though I guess that would be unfair. You didn't expect to have to come here. So, then… how to proceed? Hey Einstein, got any ideas?" Freeze said loudly, speaking to Bane. Bane nodded, growling lowly.

"Sewers…"

Freeze and Ivy grinned at each other. "A scholar of cryogenic science and a botanist with a Master's degree, and it takes dumbass up there to figure it out," Ivy chuckled, punching Bane on the shoulder. "Well done, useless."

Freeze frowned. "I don't think he was useless. It's a good idea. The sewers run-"

"Please don't compliment him in front of me," Ivy cut across him, her voice turning vicious. "The worthless animal doesn't need any more treats for the evening."

Bane turned around to look at her. He made a guttural noise, as if he wanted to say something… and then silently turned his head away, staring intently out of the front window. Freeze was uncomfortable. Did she truly have to be so hateful?

"Alright, then, you remember the plan. I'll be collecting the diamonds from the Sentry Post on the second floor, while you score the vault for Nora. Do you remember the passcode to her capsule?"

"Of course, love. Moonlight," Ivy recited like a schoolgirl rehearsing test answers.

A small smile highlighted Freeze's face. The man looked at sudden peace, a warmth thawing him just the tiniest, most invisible bit. His eyes became blurry wet as he seemed to look beyond Ivy. "Moonlight, yes… she perfected the dance to Moonlight Sonata… if only you could see how _graceful_ she moves…"

Ivy put on her best compassionate face, as she took his hand lightly in her own.

"I imagine she's very talented. Well, soon you shall have her back, and when we're in my gardens, we'll have her put on a wondrous show for us all."

She sounded genuine, her own eyes twinkling with a false happiness and security that fooled the poor man. Freeze closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deep.

"Not for a while yet, I'm afraid. She'll remain frozen for quite some time. MacGregors Syndrome has a way of taking those kinds of joys away from people…"

"Now don't you dare!" Ivy soothed, stroking his face as she had so many more of her victims. "Don't you dare talk like that! You forget, I'm a genius, Victor. As are you. Together, we can create all that is beautiful and desirable. We can overcome anything, I promise. Including this disease. Look at me." She forced his face to look directly into hers. "I _promise _you, Victor… she'll be free soon. And not just from this factory. I will ensure that she is set free permanently."

Freeze looked heartbroken, but in a most beautiful way. His breath caught, and he truly looked touched. Ivy could be the most sadistic woman on the face of the Earth… and she could also be the loveliest. He took her hand in his own and squeezed hard.

_He's touching me…_ she soothed to herself in her mind.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely. Ivy winked.

And so, a few minutes later, the three of them had climbed out of the limo and had stolen away into a nearby sewer grate. The smell down in this dark, heavily watered tunnel way was foul, a stench like no other and degrading to the senses and to the stomach, but the three of them had endured far worse, and pushed on northward, allowing Bane to lead ahead so that if there were any holes and nasty traps that await them in the dark, he would be the first to suffer. Ivy kept her hand planted upon the titan's back, for he was their guide past the dangers that awaited them this night.

_In the darkness, surrounded by stench… but she'll be dead soon. She'll be dead… and it will ALL be worth it. _

Even though it was blackness all about, she still glanced to her left, smirking unseen. Freeze was going to lose his wife! He would be so miserable, so heartbroken… but that was okay. It was okay because Poison Ivy would be there to comfort him… to hold him… to claim him.

And the murderers? The foul, demented murderers… well, now, the Gotham Police were notoriously poisoned already, that venom being the delicious corruption… _The police, Victor… oh my goodness, I'm so sorry… the police, they… they KILLED her! _Well, she definitely would not word it like that. She would take her time. Once they were inside the factory, she would send Freeze on his way for his diamonds and also ensure that he would make his way directly for the Seed of Eden, which she had given him the exact location for. Without him around, she could murder Nora in solitude, and peace. This kill was going to be no less pleasurable than the countless other murders she had committed, and yet somehow, it was going to be the most beautiful of all. Perhaps it was because of just how _cruel_ it was. For some reason, the more she acknowledged how much of a bitch she could be, the more she fell in love with herself.

Bane, his arms stretched out, was feeling about for any kind of ladder on either side. They had gone in a good ways, and surely there had to be a catch somewhere.

"Any time would be nice, useless," Ivy scorned at the beast. "The stench is getting to me."

Bane, fighting the temptation to spin around and snap her neck, grunted.

"Ladder…"

_CLANG_. She felt Bane stop abruptly, and she and Freeze came to a halt as well. The titan seemed to be feeling something to the right.

"Ladder!"

Ivy grinned. _Finally! _

"Well done, meatloaf," Freeze praised, pushing his way past Ivy and Bane, feeling the ladder for himself. "I'll do the honors." The two of them felt him climb up the rungs, and after several seconds, some ways above their heads at an estimated ten feet, light burned down onto them. A catch. Ivy pushed past Bane and began to climb as well, Bane following closely behind, staring intently at her rear as he climbed.

Freeze had already vanished at the top, and just as Ivy and Bane were crossing the halfway point of the climb, they heard a sudden _crack_, followed by a loud grunt.

"Oh, no…" Ivy climbed more intently, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the top. Freeze awaited them in a frozen storage room containing large metal vats that carried ice cream. Tall shelves reached to the ceiling and carried boxes upon boxes of frozen treats. The noise had come from Freeze, who had cracked the skull of a police officer who had just happened to be in the storage room at the time. He was a young man who looked no older than thirty, and his tag read **Chris Yaleman**. He was unconscious. "A scout?" she whispered to Freeze.

"More like a patrol, yeah. He's out though. I don't think he'll be waking up any time soon."

"Well I, for one, don't think he'll be waking up ever," Ivy corrected him savagely. She dropped down to her knees beside the man and bent her head, forcing her lips hard against the unconscious man. His body suddenly jerked wildly, but only for a second, her gloved hands pressing down hard against him to keep him in place. He lay still, dead as stone, never having stood a chance as his veins filled with poison. Ivy pulled away, breathing hard. "Wooh!" she panted, fanning herself.

Freeze stared in disbelief, just as Bane was climbing up into the room.

"Was that really nes-"

"Yes," Ivy cut across him, wiping her lips dry of the man's saliva. "Every mammal, Victor. _Every_ mammal. Each one owes me their life, and I intend to take as many as possible."

"He was just doing his job…"

Ivy raised his eyebrows. "So were your cell guards, Victor…"

Freeze looked away, frowning. "Yes, well… they mistreated me and several other inmates…"

"Yes. They deserved to die. Just as this useless piece of trash deserved to die. He is a mammal… _was_ a mammal," she corrected herself, smiling darkly at his corpse. "But _now_," she stabbed her heel into his gaping mouth and pressed down hard, forcing his head to move up, "he's _frozen_ for all eternity. Get it?" she grinned at Freeze, stamping down hard into the man's mouth. Freeze glared at her.

"Listen, you psychopathic witch. You had better keep your paraphernalia to yourself! My wife's needing a proper rescue and I won't risk her safety if you're going to-"

"Shush, now," Ivy interrupted him once more, her teeth clenched. "Just shush. You do things your way and I'll do things my way." She retracted her heel from the man's head, wishing desperately she could mutilate him… but there would be time for that later. "Bane, darling, hide his body in the sewer, please?" She snapped her fingers, and Bane moved forward at once, hoisting the dead man into his arms, where he turned on the spot and dropped the corpse down into the black hole, in a most Sweeney of fashions. Ivy kicked the grate cover over the hole once more, smiling down at the darkness that had consumed her prey. She looked over at Freeze, who was giving her the most disdainful look. She shrugged. "So where's Mrs. Snowflake?"

Freeze clenched his fists. "I've told you where she is…."

"You haven't specified where the vault is, exactly."

"Just inside of the main storage room. You can get there from here in less than a minute if you proceed north." He indicated a door behind him. Ivy, however, noticed a grating that made up the floor, and became inspired.

"First I want to check in on all the hostilities," she said, pointing a finger at Bane and then to the grating on the floor. Bane reached down and wrapped his fingers around the grating, pulling the pure metal up with no difficulty whatsoever. Ivy motioned for Freeze to follow her, and the ice man jumped down into the hidden area beneath the floor first. She then turned to Bane. "Bane, darling, you'll want to patrol the Main Vat room, as planned. Kill anyone who enters and submerge them in the mixtures. Can you do that?"

Bane nodded, grunting an assuring, "Yes… Ivy…. I can… do that…"

"Good boy," she whispered, licking his mask, before she turned around and joined Freeze under the floor. Bane closed the top of it once more with the grate, fitting it back as well as he could, before the titan began to run for the nearest door. "I hope the idiot finds his way without attracting attention…"

"I hope he does," Freeze snapped. He could no longer take her crap. "If they all go after him, they'll clear up the primaries. A manhunt for a beast can distract from the rescue of a damsel."

"Yeah, I bet…" Ivy glowered darkly at him from behind, envisioning what it would feel like to kill Nora… still she sought out just how she would off the frozen mammal. She could easily poisoned the water in the holding capsule… a simple press of her lips against its surface and she could emit a vat full of venom in less than a minute. But somehow, that just did not seem appropriate. Her poison was her weapon of lust and love, reserved only for her lovers that she deemed worthy enough to die from such a reward. For Nora, the death had to be more painful, more poetic. She wanted Nora to suffer… how could it be any other way?

The two of them moved throughout the under-walk tunnel way, staring above their heads as they sunk below the main processing room in the shadows. There were great multitudes of police running about, searching every nook and cranny of the facility, chattering away obsessively and each one holding a shiny pistol in hand. Men and their guns…

_I want to kill that one… and that one there. Oh, he's a cute one! I'd do him in slow…_

She fantasized as she walked behind Freeze, noting each police officer's face. She really would have to make a little shrine to herself back in the Seed of Eden, once the papers reported on her latest adventures. What was a lunatic without memorabilia to her artwork?

Freeze suddenly stopped, staring up in fear. Something had caught his gaze, and Ivy looked up too. Her heart skipped several beats.

At a round table, just above their heads, Batman and Robin stood beside the chubby Commissioner Gordon, and the police head was busy giving them some strange detailing. A very familiar sounding detailing.

"Poison Ivy!" Robin was exclaiming, as he viewed a small television that Gordon seemed to be holding. Her heart skipped again. But the young one was focused upon the screen, and she knew that she had been stupid for even thinking that he had spotted her below him.

Gordon was now presenting what looked like a manila folder with something inside. "Some time ago," he was saying, "Gotham Airport, these two arrived by charter, from South America."

She had to stop herself from gasping. Freeze was glancing at her. There must be a photo of herself and Bane in that folder. Who had taken the picture!?

"They put ten workers in the hospital, left a man dead from swallowing organic poison, stole a limo, even!" Ivy frowned. _Ten workers_? She had only counted seven, if memory served her correct. And of course, the man who had swallowed organic poison… she smiled deliciously as the memory of her murder of Alejandro came to mind. As for the limo, Bane had not been so subtle in stuffing the driver's body into the trunk. Someone would have seen him do it… but of course, they had sped away quickly.

"This is definitely the same pair that sprang Freeze," Batman noted, looking up, his face dark with a grimace. He looked uneasy, and Ivy was glad to see this. The more uncomfortable he looked, the happier she could be.

"Gordon!" a cop suddenly said, running up to the commissioner and pulling him away from the duo. Gordon nodded, excusing himself from the two vigilantes as he turned away to follow the guard. Batman and Robin both began to pace, and Ivy and Freeze followed them all to subtlety.

"Poison Ivy, why would she help Freeze escape?" Batman inquired to Robin, waving the folder about as his face tensed with concentration. Robin himself looked very concerned, a twinge of guilt sweat trailing down from his brow.

"She's definitely evil," the young one commented. He threw his arms out in confusion. "It's weird, for a while there, she was all I could think about… like I was in love, or-"

"I know," Batman cut across him, equally disturbed. "And then the feeling just vanished." He sighed, looking about incredolously.

"I can't believe we were fighting over a bad guy," Robin proclaimed. Ivy smirked. Bad guy?

"Bad, yes, guy, no," Batman corrected him. Ivy nodded. That was more like it. Never insult Poison by suggesting that she could in any way relate to the impurity of Man. The two of them were making their way into a freezer now, and as Freeze and Ivy followed, the surroundings suddenly became very chilled indeed.

"Well, I'm totally over her, as of now, positively!"

"Yeah me too," Batman concurred. Then, after a moment, he shrugged, and noted, "Nice stems, though."

Ivy fought hard not to snort.

"Yeah, buds too," Robin admitted.

"Yeah, those are nice."

Ivy stifled her laugh with her hand, her eyes closed as green tears of laughter began to pour. Freeze frowned at her, rolling his eyes. Terrible… just terrible…

"Here we go," Batman said, forcing concentration back to their search for the murderers at hand. He reached forward and pulled what seemed to be a frozen box of a television dinner. Freeze motioned for Ivy to follow him forward, and when she did, she saw that the room that awaited them above next contained the eye of the prize. A massive capsule, filled with the most beautiful, crystalline-like water, shimmering in a very low light. And there she was. Nora Fries, dressed in the most beautiful glittering silver dress, seemingly suspended in mid-float within the tank, her eyes closed, her skin pale, sleeping into eternity as he golden hair fanned about her. A glint on her neck showed Ivy that there was the most beautiful silver necklace there, the end of which was shaped like a snowflake.

Batman and Robin had seemingly found a secret way in, as the two hurried in.

"It's Nora Fries!" Robin exclaimed, running up to the tank.

"She's still alive," Batman pointed out, coming to a halt before the console built into the side of the massive tank. The Dark Knight activated a button on the small console as Ivy and Freeze looked on intently. Lights flickered in Batman's face. Ivy wondered what the screen was showing. "He's in debt to his freezing technology, it's been reversing MacGregor's Syndrome, he's even found a cure for the disease at certain stages."

Freeze sighed, whispering as quietly as he could to his redheaded companion. "There she is…."

"You get your diamonds, I'll rescue your snowy bride," Ivy assured him, her tone relaxed and seeking contentedness with Freeze once more. "And then we'll meet back at my place." She clenched her teeth together, fight so desperately hard to suppress a laugh once more. If only he knew… but then, he would kill her, would he not?

"No…" Freeze sighed, looking heartbroken. His breathing was getting worse. He sounded terribly strained and out of breath. "In my weakened state, I'm no match for the Bat and Bird…"

Ivy cooed him, shaking her head as she placed an assuring hand upon his chest. "You leave those boys to me!" she insisted, stroking his cheek seductively and holding his shoulder tightly, her expression mad, her eyes filled with lust as to what came next. This was going to be the perfect chance to kill Batman and Robin both. She could not pass up such an opportunity. She had noticed another secret door just beneath her feet. It surely led to the Vat Room below… where Bane awaited. "Go!" she said, more madly, slapping his shoulder hard as Freeze looked up. The ice man took off at once, back down the way. Ivy gave him a deadly smile as she grabbed the ladder. _Time to kill_…

"Can we save her?" Robin asked Batman as he studied Nora's frozen form with a concerned look upon his face.

Ivy reached out a hand and blew a thick cloud of pheromones threw the vent above her head.

"Maybe, someday…" Batman was saying. "With more research…" And then he stopped sniffing the air around him. Robin began to sway, his head rolling about. The pheromones had already begun their work. Ivy quickly reached down and opened the secret door in the floor, jumping down onto the ladder below, continuing to blow the pheromones up so as to ensure that they followed her down into the hole… down into the mad rabbit hole, where the deadliest creatures of Wonder awaited them…

"Poison Ivy," Robin muttered, as the two stared at the floor, but Ivy was already climbing down the hole as fast as she could.

The sounds of Bane roaring as he approached Batman and Robin were breathtaking. She waited silently, patiently hidden in the midst of boxes piled within a half closed freezer. The cold in her so intense, biting her hard against her skin tight suit, but she had to endure. She had to kill them. What was cold, but only a minor inconvenience?

She could hear Robin running towards Bane, saw him try to attack the titan, but Bane easily grabbed Robin and flipped the young one over his shoulder, throwing him down the chrome steel set of steps leading down towards the smaller freezers. He hit a prop display of an Ice Cream cone hard and lay still on the spot, only swaying slightly, and Ivy moved forward at once, as Bane and Batman began to clash.

She bent down beside him, her legs spread wide so that he could smell her raging hormones that preceded murder, and be enticed to give into what was coming next.

"Hey there, pretty Birdie," she cooed seductively, grinning viciously at him. For she felt wild. Wild and untamed!

When he saw her, his face tenses and his glowered fiercely as he demanded, "Give yourself up! If you surrender-"

"To you?" Ivy played, smiling at her own joke as she blew another strong wind of pheromones into his face. _He has to die, has to die… have to kill him… kill him… kill…_ His eyes went out of focus and he grinned in the most mesmerized way, almost like a forced grimace, overwhelmed by her power. She grinned. "Poly want a kiss?"

She leaned in, summoning all amounts of poison at her command, her hand pulling him forward by the chin. He was going to die! Yes, this was it! _Die, Robin, die!_

But fate, oh cruel fate. Batman suddenly went flying over the railing, tossed like a ragdoll from Bane up on the metal walkway between the vats of sherbet ice cream, and Ivy jumped, distracted by the Dark Knight's sudden fall. Bane roared furiously from atop the walkway. Batman shook his head furiously, having been cushioned by a large stack of packaged ice cream mix, and Robin jumped to his feet at once, staring up in horror as Bane approached the stairway. The Bird ran forward to meet with the Titan, jumping the stairs as he intercepted Bane. Ivy swore in her mind. _DAMN IT!_ She had almost had him! But she could not lose hope. Batman was only feet away, lying dazed upon the floor, unmoving. She moved in for the kill at once.

"There's something about an anatomically _correct_, rubber suit," she soothed him, coming to lay beside him upon the pile of mix. "That puts fire in a girl's lips," she finished, rubbing her hand across his chest. Batman looked at her, still dazed, but also very confused. She blew another handful of pheromone dust into his face, and he wretched on the spot.

"Why is it all the gorgeous ones are homicidal maniacs? Is it it!?" he demanded, sounding desperately genuine in his pursuit to discover whether or he truly did have a madness that allured insanity in others. Cats and crazed photographers notwithstanding, Ivy winked at him she moved her face towards him, glad that Batman was unaware of Robin's fight with Bane above going so badly: the titan had the young one by the neck!

"Enough talk," she whispered, closing in for the kiss.

Batman suddenly jumped up, snatching her hand as he did. "Oh, no! First you're going to tell me where Freeze is, and then you're going to jail!"

He did not notice the large shadow moving behind him as he stared intently at her. She grinned maliciously.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter! That's why every Poison Ivy action figure comes complete with _him_!" She struck out her foot as Bane, appearing behind Batman, snatched up the Dark Knight into his arms. Robin was lying on the walkway, still. For the moment, anyway. She laughed maniacally enjoying the sudden rush of adrenaline that came with the forciveness of the moment's passion. As Bane held Batman in place, choking the life out of him, she wrapped herself around his chest and hissed, snake-like, "Try not to make a mess, when you die!"

She walked around Bane, back onto the stairs, intent on murdering Robin once and for all. Bane would make short work of Batman. The young one was all hers.

She approached him where he was getting to his feet, and blew another handful of pheromones into his already stunned face.

"Stop!" she commanded. He swayed on the back, his head swimming about as he took several steps backwards. "Living in the shadow of the big bad bat, huh? You don't need him," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in. "You're the star. I can see it now. Your own big signal in the sky! Let me guide you!" She grimaced fiercely as she pulled him in. Murder… it had to happen… "Let me kiss you…" Her lips were less than a centimeter from his….

"STOP!"

Ivy jumped startled by the sudden appearance of Batman. She saw Bane lying shaking upon the floor down below, a heavy steel pipe lying beside the giant. She gasped, horrified. She backed away as Batman began to approach her, glaring at him with such hatred… with such vileness… a loathing completely unmatched by any other kind.

"The victim at the airport!" Batman told Robin intently. "Toxins induced through the mouth, remember?"

"What are you saying?" Robin demanded, suddenly sounding defensive. Ivy was slowly backing away, sinking into the shadows, the ladder that led up into Nora's room just behind her…

"Why do you think she wants to kiss us so badly? I'm betting her lips are poisoned!"

She jumped onto the ladder, just as she heard Robin cry out, in a most skeptical tone, "A poison kiss!? You know, you have real issues with women! You just couldn't stand that she was going to be mine!" He forcibly shoved Batman in the chest, and the Dark Knight reeled back frowning darkly. But now Robin was moving in, his fists raised to beat his partner. "You couldn't stand that I was going to be the one to get something for a change!"

She was at the top of the ladder now, grinning down as she witnessed Batman dodge Robin's punch and flip the young one over the edge of the walkway, where he hit the sherbet in a great, tremulous splash. She laughed aloud, waving them goodbye as she finished climbing back into the secret way beneath the floor above, where she slammed the door shut behind her.

Back in Nora's room, at last. She walked precariously up the small set of steps, pondering her next move. Poison the water? Shatter the glass and stab Nora repeatedly in the throat? She had her knife hidden in her belt loop. And then she noticed the thick, silver plug in that connected the cryogenics chamber to life support. She gazed up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

_I wonder what would happen if_- She kicked out with her foot, snapping the cable in two. A flash of sparks shot up as she disconnected the life support, the little screen console that showed her heart rate and anatomy status suddenly going red. _Red_… such a beautiful color. The color of death. She stroked the capsule lovingly, feeling a release of pleasure as she now knew that Nora was as good as dead.

"I've never been one for competition," she told the frozen woman who was dying before her. She smirked. "Who needs a frigid wife anyway?"

She tapped her fingers against the glass, sighing most contentedly. It was so very beautiful…

A glint.

The snowflake necklace around Nora's neck glistened in the light of the capsule. A sudden spark of brilliance! An idea… such an idea! She gasped, realizing how much potential it had in it. Yes… yes she could do it… and it could work… after all, he was already on the verge of madness. The news would destroy him, and then what?

_A bird and a bat shall fall into trap_…

"YES!" she screamed, running towards a nearby desk that stood in the dark corner. There was a very large, very thick wrench sitting there, and when she heaved it, it was quite heavy, an instrument of true power, with the right force of will put behind it. She heaved it back behind her, and promptly swung the silver instrument with all her might. The glass of the capsule shattered so loudly, that she panicked, having not thought of those who may still be lingering about… but the door to the secret room was closed…

Water crashed everywhere, glass shards flying in every direction, and Nora Fries fell forward, hitting the floor hard as the icy water, so powerfully freezing, swept over Ivy's feet. She closed her eyes, satisfied now.

"I'll take this," she whispered, yanking the necklace hard from Nora's neck. She hoped that Nora could still feel pain. She truly hoped it with all her heart. To place the icing, she kicked Nora hard in the side of her head, and with a smirk, walked away, quite contentedly as she skipped a bit. Back through the under-way and back into the sewer grate where they had entered, where Bane was waiting patiently for her. He inquired as to Nora's whereabouts.

"Where-" he began, but Ivy reached back a hand, the snowflake necklace still clenched within, and she slapped Bane hard across the face. The giant reeled back in place, swaying on the spot.

"You will no longer speak unless spoken to, is that clear!?" she demanded of him.

Bane was frozen in place, speechless. She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.

"IS THAT CLEAR!?"

Her eyes glowed dangerously. Bane nodded quickly. Ivy smiled, slapping him hard across the face again. "Good," she whispered. "Now move it, _meatloaf_. Freeze is waiting back at the Seed. We have to deliver the tragic news of Nora's death… don't we?" she added pointedly.

Bane shivered. To what lengths had this terrible woman gone, exactly!?

"Understand this, Bane… the game is set in my hand now. I hold the planet's future in my hand!" She raised the necklace before his eyes and jingled it about. "Eden is coming, Bane. Eden begins with a tiny snowflake. Cherish the thought, Bane. My perfection will spread! Freeze and I shall dominate the Earth… while you, on the other hand, will perish with it." And with another forcible punch to his chest, she slipped into the sewer, leaving Bane breathing hard, on the verge of exploding… on the verge of snapping completely…


	19. Mass Murder (The Plan to End the World)

"Thank you, for your generosity," Ivy praised the man who fell dead onto the floor, picking bits of fur from her new coat, a wondrous mass of green colored wolf hair that spread far down past her ankles, something like a coat and a cloak combined. She spun around in the middle of the tailor's shop, admiring herself in a tall oval mirror as she fixed up her hair. "I really am the most beautiful being in all of Mother Nature's creation, aren't I?" she asked the body. "Just perfect in every way."

She left the shop with a new jump to her stride, humming softly as she swiveled the CLOSED sign to OPEN. The sooner they found the body the better. Now that the world knew of Poison Ivy and what she could do, she needed people to find her artwork. They would post pictures upon the Internet, write long, erotic news articles of her murderous exploits… of course, she would help them with that. She was going to prepare a video tape, and send it to the news agencies as soon as she could, demanding that they report in long, sensual detail as to the state of her victims and how she killed for pleasure. Art for art's sake. She would add, of course, that if they refused, the body count would sky rocket by one hundred within a day… and of course, when they _did_ report it, it still would. Oh, yes, it still would.

One less human… one less human… it was getting harder and harder to stop killing. She now knew that she could not go a single day without taking life itself. It was impossible, something that only existed within a nightmare. Killing meant everything to her.

She waved at Bane to follow behind, the titan sitting impatiently in the limo. As she strolled up the sidewalk down the Poor District, Bane commanded the road slowly, not daring to drive past his mistress. But mentally daring himself to drive _into_ his mistress. She had no need to ride in the car. The Garden was seven blocks from here. She would hunt the entire way. She had sworn to herself that every last man, woman, and child that she encountered whilst on her way would die. Tonight, sexuality meant nothing for the murderess. Children could succumb to poison just as much as adults could. Oh, how she hoped she would find one… killing children had been fun, during her first true day in Gotham…

_Nora's dead, Nora's dead, oh my goodness, Nora's dead!_ she celebrated in her mind, skipping a few steps here and there (which made her stumble terribly in her heels), but she cared not. Tonight was a beautiful night. It was a night of _sacrifice_. _Nora's dead, Nora's dead, oh I just can't believe it, but Nora's DEAD!_

A figure loomed in the distance, walking up the way towards her. Her heart leapt. The tenth! Ten in one night, oh please make it twenty! It was a teenage boy, jogging up the sidewalk while headphones boomed metal into his ears. Ivy gave him no subtle seduction. She positively ran up to the boy and threw her arms around him, startling the young man as she swooped him off of his feet and kissed him passionately. She felt his feeble body jerk but she held onto him for the longest second, before allowing the teen to drop dead to the ground. His music kept blasting even into his deceased ears…

But she was not done! Oh, no, she was not! Even as she giggled madly, spinning around like a dancer in the most passionate twirl, she saw two more people jogging closely behind, an older man and an older woman. They looked as if they were the boy's parents. Delicious!

When they saw their son lying on the ground, however, with Ivy grinning at the pair with the most malicious smile, they stopped in their tracks, their panting faces suddenly turning to horror as their minds processed what they were seeing. But Ivy was already running forward, unsheathing her knife as she came.

"POLLY WANT A KISS!?" she screamed, jumping into the man as she pressed her lips against his, whilst simultaneously slashing at the woman beside him, who had just begun to scream at realizing that her son was lying dead upon the ground at their feet. The knife entered the woman's neck, and even as the man jerked, choking viciously upon Ivy's poison, the murderess stabbed several times in quick motions, killing them both simultaneously.

Both of them fell to the ground, the man dying instantly and the woman thrashing about, blood pouring from her open wound as she opened her mouth in an attempt to scream, green goo gushing from her lips. Ivy laughed insanely, leaping down onto the woman's stomach and stabbing her repeatedly in the forehead.

"MARY-HAD-A-LITTLE-LAMB!" she sang, punctuating each word with a stab into the woman's chest. "WHOSE-FUR-WAS-RED-WITH-BLOOD!" The woman stopped twitching, her empty eyes staring into empty void. Ivy rolled onto her back, beaming up at the blanket of stars that witnessed her art with pride. "And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to die," she whispered passionately to the dead man beside her. She took her knife once more and cut deep gashes into his cheeks. On the right cheek, she carved a P. On the left, she carved an I. "There, you look perfect," she told him.

Bane was wondering as to whether or not he should call out to her. They needed to hurry back to the lair. Time was ticking on so many accounts.

Ivy jumped to her feet, her eyes deranged, a grin plastered there that was not unlike the Glasgow of a man who had once terrorized Gotham in very much the same way she did now. _Ever dance with the Devil in the full moon light?_

"Bane, look at all the mammal blood!" she snorted, holding up her knife and bloody gloves. "Look at all of it! Isn't it exciting!? That's twelve, Bane! Twelve mammals exterminated in one night! We can do this, Bane! We can do this!"

Bane shook his head. _Idiotic woman. Such a very foolish, idiotic woman… _

She skipped quite merrily up the way, leaving the bodies where they were. Oh, the news was going to report on tonight with extreme care! She would be praised! She would be worshipped!

An elderly lady was walking dead her steps, looking about fearfully as she did. The recent gang murders that had occurred in this district still set people on edge, and when Ivy saw her on the sidewalk, moving as quickly as she could to deposit a garbage bag into the nearby can, she beamed. _Thirteen_…

"Let me help you with that, ma'am!" she cried out, making the woman jump out of her skin. Ivy snatched the bag from her grasp, and then, hoisting it in both hands, she reared back and slammed it against the woman's head. The old woman fell onto the sidewalk, screaming as she hit the hard concrete, accompanied by a terrible _snap_! "Oh… I am sorry, miss… broken hip. You'll probably need it amputated." She wiggled the knife in the woman's face.  
I'm _very_ good with amputation!"

"N-no! PLEASE!" the elder sobbed hysterically, but this was only music to Ivy's ears. _Yes, scream! Scream so loudly! Please, scream! Scream! _

The knife stabbed down several times, entering the woman's eye sockets. Her screams intensified so horrendously, and lights were switching on in all of the surrounding houses. Ivy, sensing danger, quickly took the woman by the scruff of the neck and ran the blade across her throat, slitting the withered skin open, and she allowed the woman to die slowly upon the concrete as she dashed off into a nearby alleyway. Bane drove forward as fast as he could, hoping to escape the people who were running from their houses even now, as well as hoping to meet Ivy on the other side of the street.

Ivy had never felt more alive! When she ran, she ran with grace! When she panted, it was a lover's sight! So many people to kill, and so little time! _So many people to kill, and so little time… _ _So many people to kill, and so little time… _ _So many people to kill, and so little time… _ _So many people to kill, and so little time… _ _So many people to kill, and so little time… _ _So many people to kill, and so little time… _

Three local kids were exchanging cigarettes underneath a nearby streetlight. Ivy ran for them at once, slashing through the air at a teenage girl's throat. The girl gasped, catching her throat with her hands as it split open, during which time Ivy managed to sink the knife into another teenage boy's cranium, grabbing the third in and kissing him as passionately as she had the joggers. The one that she kissed fell dead as quickly as any other victim did, but the other two fell to the ground and she had to work quickly, polishing them both off with delicate sawing motions to their throats, adding only a more deeper wound to the girl that she had deprived of continuation.

There were several shouts in the distance behind her, and now she knew that the fun was soon going to have to end. Fortunately, a set of headlights illuminated from her right, and she gratefully turned to see Bane driving up her way. She ran as fast as she could for the car, throwing the front passenger seat open as she tossed herself inside.

"Step on it, Bane!" she gasped hurriedly, giving unto herself a pleasurable hand to satisfy her lustful hungers as Bane slammed a foot upon the accelerator, speeding off at a madman's pace down the road. A blur of lights met them in their haste, and it broke Ivy's heart, even as she pleasured herself to the murders that she had just committed, to not be able to stay and hear the screams of the people who would find the dead ones… _Children! Oh, yes… YES! CHILDREN! Little mammals, lying dead, poisoned and stabbed and sliced!_ "Oh, Bane… Oh, Bane…"

Bane's arms were shaking. He refused to speak to her. She was out of control!

She opened her eyes from her self-passion in time to see another pedestrian walking the sidewalk on the right. More mad inspiration! Quickly, before she lost her chance, she grabbed the wheel that Bane held and jerked it to the right. Bane froze in place as Ivy steered the wheel, the car barreling at ninety miles per hour towards the unfortunate man who only looked up when it was too late. His stunned face was the last thing they saw before blood splattered across the window shield and the car bumped violently onto the sidewalk as the limo crushed the man underneath.

"ONE HUNDRED POINTS!" Ivy screamed as she jerked the wheel back onto the road. Bane snapped. He slammed his foot upon the breaks, and the car came to a dead halt in the middle of the road. Ivy looked at him incredulously, silently demanding to know why he had done that. The titan, his hands shaking beyond all comprehension to attempt control, seized the mask that he wore and ripped it from his face. The furious swollen face and those piercing, glowing green eyes bored so furiously into Ivy, and the murdering psychopath had a sudden urge of the greatest fear overtake her.

"WHAT…DO…YOU THINK…YOU'RE DOING!?" Bane screamed, slamming his fist hard against the window shield. Glass shattered and flew everywhere, several small pieces pelting Ivy as she screamed, throwing her hands in front of her to attempt cover. "WHO…DO…YOU THINK…YOU ARE!?"

His massive hands reached forward and wrapped around her neck. Ivy sobbed, her eyes watering at once as she trembled in terror, screaming through her tears and sobbing. "PLEASE, BANE! NO! DON'T YOU DARE! DO YOU HEAR ME!? DON'T YOU DARE!?"

"DON'T…I…DARE!?" he screamed back, furious…maddeningly lost… "YOU…MURDERING…_BITCH_!"

She gasped, her eyes widening as she realized that he had just taken the _dare _of the _nerve _to call her such a thing. She raged in expression, her fangs clenched together furiously.

"How…dare…you!"

His massive fist reared back and came flying. The force of his slap was an impact of true fire, pain unimaginable. The force of it all was so great that she screamed as she hit the window hard with her head, cracking the glass upon this impact as she slumped in the seat. Bane pressed a finger against her throat, and she knew too well, as she looked at him in horror, that he would _not_ hesitate to crush her windpipe.

"YOU… STAY… SILENT! YOU…DON'T TALK… UNTIL YOU ARE… SPOKEN TO!"

Ivy whimpered loudly, nodding quickly. Her tears were positively drenching Bane's arm, but she dared not make a move. He withdrew his hand, and once more turned back to wheel, pressing the accelerator as he began to drive once more. He felt good. So very, very good. What he had just done, that kind of display… it had been so beautiful. It had been so magical. He had finally worked up the nerve to do it, and now, he felt no regrets… he felt no fear or guilt. He had contested the witch and paid her a proper burning in full, and it pleased him. Pleased him to the point of where he could genuinely speak in coherent meaning once more.

They drove in silence for several minutes, making their way carefully around the various wide blocks. The Garden was just around the corner now, and the street lights were completely out. When they pulled up to the alleyway that led to the Turkish Baths, Ivy clambered out quickly, her green fur coat swaying against dirty ground in her haste. She loathed it! She loathed him! She pressed a hand against her cheek where he had slapped her… no… where he had _pulverized _her!

Bane got out of the car first, slamming the door so hard that the metal framework broke off of its hinges, but he ignored it. The titan stomped away, not saying a word to her as he vanished into the darkness of the alleyway. Ivy stood there for several seconds, whimpering uncontrollably as she tried to force herself to regain control. She was not going to walk in there crying in front of Victor. She absolutely refused. _Oh, how I hate this stupid world… I need Bane dead. I need him dead now!_

Madly, several theories came to mind as to how she could effectively remove him, each one more gruesome than the next. He was not fully immune to her kiss. If she just held him long enough… her poison could eventually kill him.

_Yes, that's exactly what I'll do… one last fock for Useless…_

She brushed her fur coat about her, stiffening her shoulders as she marched straight forward, proud and tall as she ever was. Bane was not going to get away with this! He had signed an early death warrant. _Antonio, you've just committed your LAST crime_.

How she thought back to that night with Woodrue as she walked, and what it would have been like if she _had_ joined the mad man in his experiments. How many people like Antonio Diego could she have tortured? Just how many?

The jungle of her home was such a welcoming sight after all that had transpired this evening, and as she brushed past the thick vines and foul smelling trees with their poisonous fumes, she felt a peace wash over that actually helped to take away, only briefly, the thought of what had just happened to her in the car.

"Hello, babies… mama's home," she whispered to some Orchids that hung nearby. She kissed lightly a vastly blooming set of Bromeliads, which wilted at her gesture, turning black and pruned away. She did not care. Killing was what mattered to her. Nature, these days, only had to come second, at least tonight… at least right now. Wheras Ivy was the signature of her purpose and promise to Madre de Verde, Poison was all she could focus upon at the moment.

A coldness hit her in the most odd way as she entered the main throne room. Startled, she came to a halt before the most unruly of sights. A section to the left of the throne had been covered in thick ice, and freezing steam was floating about the air as Freeze worked away at some lab tables and equipment that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Annoyance overtook her at once. What right had he bore!?

"Make yourself right at home," she snapped sarcastically. Freeze turned, looking startled to see her standing there. He looked at Bane, who stood some feet behind Ivy, silent once more, and looked around the floor at their feet.

"Where's my wife!?" he asked intently, his face stricken with grief when he saw that Nora was missing.

_Alright, Ivy, time to play the tragic victim… _

"There was nothing I could do," Ivy plead, her voice strained with heartbreak. "Batman… deactivated her…. I'm sorry, but she's…dead…"

Freeze's eyes widened madly. "YOU LIE!"

In response, Ivy held up the snowflake necklace. It twinkled with a dark sort of lie as Freeze stood rooted to the spot, staring in horror as he beheld the small trinket. His arm shaking, lips trembling, he reached forward, and Ivy dropped the necklace into his hand, putting on the most sincere face of compassion that she could fake…

His hand trembling as he held the necklace, his eyes closed as a single tear drop fell down his face, which was almost immediately frozen, and by the pressure of the sub-zero streams, whisked away into floating powder.

"I'm sorry," Ivy whispered, fighting hard to contain her smirk. _Go ahead, Freeze… cry… I love seeing men in torment…_

"Their blood…" he whispered to himself, shaking with the most absolute horror of interior rage. "…their blood will melt in my HANDS!" He screamed horrendously as he threw his arm backwards into the table of equipment, shattering beakers and several instruments in the process. Ivy grinned. She was reminded so clearly of the night of her own Ascension, when she had destroyed the lab… oh how good it had felt.

"They will pay for sentencing me to a life without the warmth of human comfort!" he raged, overturning a table without a care in the world. "They'll die… they'll die…" he whispered to himself.

"Kill them of course, but why stop there?" she asked rather pointedly. "Why should only Batman and Robin die, while the society that created them remains unpunished." Yes. Planting seeds was her specialty, and this seed would grow to bear the most beautiful of fruit. Now was the time to corrupt him fully.

Freeze turned to face her, a mad smile upon his face, and a terribly mad twinkle in his eyes. "Yes," he whispered, as if he had never heard of a more beautiful idea. "If I must suffer… humanity will suffer with me!" He looked about the room, suddenly intensely inspired. Ivy was grinning, as she stripped off her gloves. Partly naked. Soon to be one with nature again. "I will cover the city in endless winter! First, Gotham…"

He picked up a snow globe that remained on the table, showing a miniaturized Gotham City. It was hers, the one she had taken from the Flower Ball that night. He turned to her, his expression truly insane. "And then… THE WORLD!" He could not have looked happier.

Ivy gave him the most seductive, hungry look. "Just what I had in mind. Everything dead on Earth except _us_. A chance for-" She gestured to herself, to the devil horns that she had curled her hair into. "-Mother Nature, to start again. Behold!"

Bane had come creeping up behind her, as had been the plan for when she approached Freeze on this topic. Even after what had transpired in the car, he was still loyal to her commands. It was a beautifully crafted glass care, not unlike the one portrayed in the Disney classic of _Beauty in the Beast_. But the flower inside was not a precious, enchanted rose. It was a monstrosity of change, a terror of mutated abomination. She gazed at her beautiful child within and loved it. Loved it so very, very much. The stem and leaves were those of a large wild rose, but the head… the head was that of a large rattlesnake. It licked at the glass lovingly as it saw its mother peering inside, and she herself admired it for all that it was. Her life's work, perfected. "The dawn of a new age," Ivy whispered. She sighed. "My mutant plants have the strength of the deadliest animals," she promised Freeze, who was suddenly looking amazed. Enthralled by the very sight before him. "Once you've frozen mankind, these babies will overrun the globe."

She beamed back at the flower. "And we shall rule them," she cooed at it as one would do to a child, wagging her tongue at the glass as the creature inside did the same, "for we will be," she smiled menacingly at Freeze, "the only two people left in the world."

"Yes!" Freeze grinned. "Adam… and _Evil_."

"Yes," Ivy agreed, loving all too well the name of Evil being given to someone as truly demented as her.

"You distract the Bat and the Bird," he suggested to her. "While I prepare to freeze Gotham!" He clutched the snow globe once more, gazing into its depths madly. Ivy sighed with relief. She had won. Victory… was at last hers.

She turned away from him, handing Bane the glass jar carefully. As she began to strip the rest of her attire off, she walked by the titan one last time, and as she did, she whispered, "You'll soon be dead." It was a promise. And it was a promise that Bane expected her to keep.


	20. The Most Evil Thing a Woman Could Do

"Gotham City has… Gotham has…" Mayor Borg could not even start his speech to address the public before he broke down into tears, falling to his knees upon the stage as swarms of his guard overwhelmed him, attempting to ensure that he was going to make it. There were so many people screaming in misery and Ivy could hear every single one of them on the television. The man had been suffering a serious hangover upon answering the door, and Ivy had wasted no time in killing him. She had needed someone's television. She had needed to watch the Mayor's address for herself.

Today she was glad to be free of the skin tight rubber. She had traded it out for the very black tanktop that she had worn on the night of her Rebirth. Her hair flowed down long and curled and beautiful once more. She had woven old leaves to decorate her blood red curls, and tied strands of poison ivy around her dirt stained feet and legs and arms. She wore nothing on her lower half, her legs spread wide and au naturel as she propped her feet upon the man's coffee table. Being completely half naked made her feel so much more Poison Ivy than the tight rubber suit.

The man with the hangover had thought her a birthday present sent by his brother.

"Well, you're in for a surprise," she had teased before killing him. He now lay strewn across the coffee table, providing her a human footrest as she studied intently the television where the elderly Mayor Borg was announcing the Gotham all that had transpired of late… as well as his lies concerning all that the police department were doing to put an end to it.

The television kept constantly flashing her picture across the scream, including several shots of her from the Flower Ball as well as surveillance footage from Arkham. She looked so beautiful on the television. She brushed her long red hair with her ivy wrapped hands as the Mayor finally got back to his feet, and stood once more at the podium.

"We are going to find her!" he yelled furiously into the microphone. "I swear to you, she is going to pay! SHE'S GOING TO PAY!" Several officials who stood onstage with him rushed forward and drug the frantic mayor away, as his face reddened.

"Oh, have a heart attack!" Ivy rooted at the screen, as if it were a football game she were watching. "Come on, have a heart attack!"

The mayor collapsed to the ground, several people screaming and sobbing hysterically as medics rushed onto the stage at once.

"SCORE!" she screamed, throwing her arms and legs in the air. "YES! You see that!?" she cried at the corpse. "He DID have a heart attack!"

The live footage ceased at once, turning back to the local GCN channel, where reporter Vicki Vale began to speak.

"It seems something has happened to Mayor Borg. God knows he'll be in our prayers."

"You better pray real damn hard, then, huh, Vic?" Ivy snorted as she took a sip from one of the man's ales that he had wonderfully stocked in the masses within the refrigerator. Swallowing it, she closed her eyes, imagining what it must be like to witness the mayor falling like that in first person. "You better pray hard because the Devil's in town and she's here to make more prayers necessary."

"The hunt for the mass murderer simply known as Poison Ivy continues, adding to the manhunt focused around notorious super-criminal Victor Fries, otherwise known as Mr. Freeze. Since their disturbing escape from Arkham Asylum last night which left five staff members dead, along with one inmate who had been identified as none other than the notorious Riddler himself, Edward Nygma, whole neighborhoods have been shut down while masses of search parties scour the city in hopes of finding leads that will result in Ivy and Freeze's capture. The mass murders that occurred in the Old Shiviar Poor District late last night have given strong indication that-"

"Three, two, one," Ivy counted down, holding up the dead man's arm to watch his watch hand. "And… now." She looked up at the screen, just as someone suddenly appeared. Vicki Vale stopped dead mid-speech, looking annoyed at the sudden stagehand that had appeared, but he desperately handed the reporter a letter and whispered something urgent to her. Vales's face froze.

"Yes, that's right, Vicki, go ahead," Ivy whispered, and she drug the coffee table against the couch now, flipping onto her side so that she could spoon with the dead man.

"I… I don't know what to say…" the reporter stuttered.

"The truth, moron," Ivy sighed as she wrapped her leg around the man.

"We have just received a letter, and… and…" She stared at it with the most intense discomfort. "It seems to have been written by none other than… than Poison Ivy herself."

"Read it already!" Ivy snapped at the television.

"I've been instructed to read it in full…erm…" She cleared her throat in the most uncomfortable way. "It reads as follows: _"Dear Mammals of Gotham City, you have lost. I have taken from you superior numbers, my body count surpasses well beyond fifty. And it has been my greatest, most…" _Vale looked sick. _"most intimate, sexual pleasure to murder your wives, your husbands and friends… and e-especially your c-children… I truly enjoyed killing your children. Taking life from an adult in of common sweetness, but murdering a child who innocence thrives so strongly… I've never felt-"_

"More peace in my life," Ivy recited along with her as she read. "I write this because-"

_"As mammals, you are destined for an extermination like this on a mass scale, intended to purge the entire planet as you worthless pigs know it. It is my only hope-"_

"That I will be able to kill as many of you as I can," Ivy sang.

_"-before the MASS extermination commences, as it is more fun, and indeed more arousing, to do so on a one on one level, but as you have poisoned, destroyed, and insulted Mother Nature and her produce for far too long, I shall return equal retribution a billion fold. I will slaughter every single one of you-"_

"And enjoy it as much as a child enjoys a new toy. But I will bring it further. Unto the men, I shall enjoy myself in the most passionate ways-"

_"with your corpses. Ha. Ha. Ha. Unto the women, I, Mother Nature, bring a mass of Death Pits unto you, that you may be devoured and your blood and bones soaked to fertilize the Earth, in hopes that my babies will grow strong from your remains-"_

"While the children shall, one by one, bed fed to _my_ children, for the little worthless urchins trample underfoot the glory of nature without regards to its flourishing life. I will enjoy reaping them the most-"

_"because I know that I will have saved the world by these sacrifices. In time, the Earth will be cleansed and prepared anew, for the Ascension of Mother Nature cannot be complete whilst she is defiled by mammals. Hold each other close… for the end is coming… and I, Poison, truly and simple in its most purified form, will bring your death within twenty-four hours. Enjoy your final moments. I look forward to killing as many of you as I can within those next twenty-four hours. I could… I could… b-be anywhere… and you would never see me coming until it was too late. I love you. I love you all so very much-"_

"Your goddess, Poison Ivy. And with a little heart scribbled beside my name," Ivy cooed, laughing insanely once more as she rolled onto her back, imagining just how much terror would be spreading through the city even now as people comprehended her promises. "Oh, and-"

_"P-p-.s,"_ Vicki struggled with, tears flashing in her eyes as her hands shook violently. She herself was about to break down. _"You m-may now p-play the tape…_ oh my goodness…" She collapsed, sobbing hysterically into her arms as her co-anchor and husband, Alexander Knox, came to sooth her at once, placing his arms around her, tears falling down his own face.

Ivy squeezed the dead man tightly in excitement. Here it comes!

The screen flickered, and suddenly, the video tape she had sent to the news agency was playing. Ivy's floral throne from before no longer existed. Instead, a massive life form, resembling a gigantic pink hued, green tipped Venus-fly trap sat assembled where the chair had once been, opened wide to reveal Ivy, sitting bare naked upon its greast mass, her body covered in some of the most poisonous plants imaginable: White trumpet shaped flowers, called "Brugmansia", otherwise known as the dangerous "Angel's trumpet flower", wrapped around her head like a crown: **Scopolamine, the main toxin in the plant, can cause diarrhea, nausea, confusion and dizziness. An overdose can be fatal, or lead to a coma with permanent damage to the eyes, heart and brain.** This knowledge suited her well. Her legs and arms were of course wrapped in poison ivy. Around her neck, a wreath of Monkshood, known for its ravenous means to produce death by asphyxia. Black mamba and rattlesnakes coiled around her on either side, seduced to be docile by the pheromones she had induced upon them. They made such beautiful music. Ivy sat in all of her poisonous glory upon the floral throne, stroking the hair of a Hispanic man who lay peacefully in her lap: he was staring around the room, dazed and drunken, grinning stupidly up at his naked goddess as she held him, smiling venomously at the camera filming her.

"Hello, Gotham," the Ivy on the television sighed arousingly. "Have you met my friend? This is Joseph Crimble. Say hello, Joseph Crimble."

Joseph looked around, his eyes dilated, and he gave a half-hearted nod of the head. "Um…" he muttered, before turning to look right back at Ivy. Ivy on the screen giggled, allowing him to such on her finger most hungrily.

"Joseph here is running on my new diet. The world and its impurities suddenly become far more tolerable, when you can see it through the eyes of a vegetarian. He _loves_ his vegetable. I, of course, am a meat eater. And what exactly do I eat?"

She picked up something that lay beside her. It was a severed human hand, and it was missing three of its fingers. "Why, _you_, of course." She stuck one of the hand's remaining fingers in her mouth and sucked dreamily. "Umm… taste of humans. Yummy." She tossed the hand aside.

"Damn, I belong in Hollywood," Ivy told the corpse.

"You may be wondering why I've made this video. Well, Joseph here really insisted upon it. He wanted to show you all something. Joseph, what is it that you would like to show the people of Gotham?"

She raised her hand and blew a handful of pheromones into the man's face. Joseph positively screamed, his arms reaching out for Ivy in the most worship-able fashion.

"I need you!" he begged, jerking her head towards his, his lips trembling.

"Pipe down," Ivy soothed, pulling him in for a kiss.

Ivy in the present watched with such beautiful fascination. It had been so fun and so pleasurable to actually kill, but to _see_ herself during the kill, as a spectator… it truly was her own form of porn. Her legs tightened around the dead man as she watched Joseph choke to death, green vomit spilling out from his mouth while the Ivy on television stroked his chin as he died. His head relaxed in her lap, warm against her nether regions, his dead face staring blankly towards the camera. How many people were screaming, terrified by this, even now, as this video played all across Gotham on GCN?

"I'm so… perfect," Ivy acknowledged, both on the screen and in the present. Both Ivies said it together. The Ivy on the screen continued to brush Joseph's hair as if nothing had happened. "Now, you see, don't you, Gotham? Do you see what I am? I am Venus, fully realized. I am irresistible, and I can make any man positively _die_ for me. Isn't that right, Margetia? After all, this is your husband of eleven years. Hope you don't mind, Mrs. Crimble. I had to borrow your hubby for a little demonstration."

Ivy in the present grinned, hoping that even now, Mrs. Crimble was bawling her eyes out, screaming in terror at having witnessed her husband's murder on the television. "But don't worry," said TV Ivy assuringly. "Don't worry at all. He has plenty of friends to keep him company during his time here. It takes a while for corpses to rot completely, so I decided to give him some company." She raised her hand and snapped her fingers loudly.

Suddenly, thick green vines dropped down from the ceiling around her. And hanging from those vines were bodies. She had since replaced the décor of the Gollum thugs with more appropriate looking men. They were all rich and finely dressed in business suits and bow ties, their faces stricken in death as their poisoned veins bulged out, the vines wrapped tightly around their necks. There were five of them, and now, a sixth vine was descending down of its own accord, lowering itself right before Ivy. Ivy kissed the vine lovingly, and motioned downward with her finger. The vine moved quickly, twisting itself around Joseph Crimble's neck and tightening. The vine then proceeded to drag the dead Hispanic into the air, where he joined the other five victims in their eternal hanging pose. Joseph's vine, of course, raised him high above Ivy so that everyone could see her face, and only his dangling feet above her head could be seen. She stretched out her arms and hugged the closest of the bodies to her.

"Behold, Gotham, the future of your species. Mrs. Roderick, Mrs. Kelsey, Mrs. Divena, Mrs. Obstrun, and Mrs. Falcone… you should all recognize your own husbands here, just… you know… _hanging around_!" She let out a series of giggles and snorts, cracking up at her own joke. "You see, Mrs. Crimble, I didn't just murder your husband. I murdered these fine men as well, all of them married… because all of them just couldn't get enough of me. So, it's not unfair at all. Everyone gets a turn. That's right, Gotham… _everyone_ will soon be hanging in my Eden. Your corpses will be put on display for me and my babies… this is what awaits you, in just twenty-four hours. I wanted you to see my power, see my perfection… and know that I have come to destroy you all. But don't worry. I'm not going to be afraid of anyone finding me in the next twenty-four hours… I have these strong men to keep me company." She tickled the stomachs of the dead men with her fingers. "This is Poison Ivy, but really, just _Poison_, bidding you a happy annihilation… and a pleasant afterlife."

She blew them all a kiss, and the video ended, cutting to static. The present day Ivy, satisfied by how well her video had been delivered, sighed with relief, flicking the television off with the remote.

"I think that went rather well, don't you think?" she said softly, kissing the back of the man's head. "I think Gotham's gotten the message. No one focks with Mother Nature. I feel confident that they have been given proper caution now and readiness. They'll all be screaming, and crying, and suffering… oh, how they'll suffer… just like you did." She gave him a rough shove and he rolled off of the table, hitting the floor hard. "Just like Woodrue did," she sang, rubbing her body affectionately, loving herself. "Just like those miserable urchins, and the staff of Arkham, and Alejandro… oh, man… how many lives have I ended with my kiss? I love these lips." She stroked them softly, wishing it were possible to kiss herself on those perfect lips, to taste her poison for all that it was. "Not enough, I'm afraid. The city hasn't become a mausoleum yet. It won't do me any good to have them all last another day. Freeze will take care of it, though. He will. And speaking of which…" She glanced down at the floor towards the man, eyeing his watch once more. It was still early. She still had plenty of time to relax. This house was nice. Mahogany wood floor, soft linen wallpaper, the scent of fresh flowers… this mad had known atmosphere. She lay on the couch, positively ripping her tanktop to shreds, tearing it from her body, for she hated clothing. Why should she hide her natural beauty? Her body was perfection.

She felt more relaxed, tossing the torn shreds aside as she stretched out naked on the couch. Naked and covered in poison ivy. She was truly right now.

"My life has truly changed in such a short time, hasn't it? I escaped the falsehood of identity, that prison cell that had been called Pamela Isley. Even my original initials had destined me for something greater. And I found it… all thanks to Woodrue. I wish I could bring him back, if only to thank him for releasing me… of course, I would have to kill again, soon after. Killing him was the first true pleasure I had in my life, and that was even after my sexual escapades with Eddie. Woodrue…" She rubbed her leg dreamily as she thought of him. "Woodrue, I miss you, baby…. You helped me realize Poison in fullness. Your corpse would have made such a masterpiece of décor for my garden. But I suppose you're burnt to a crisp now, aren't you? Ashes to ashes and dust to dust."

She snuggled softly against the fine leather of the couch. Allowed herself to rest comfortably, intending to sleep away the next couple of hours. She wanted to dream. She wanted to dream desperately of Eden, and what it would mean for the future of Mother Nature.

_It will be alive. Of course it will be alive. A living beauty, perfected into something that Man could never understand… _

"I wonder if mom and dad have gotten their package," she yawned, so comfortable on this couch that it made her sleepy. "Hmm… I guess we'll find out soon."

She had sent them a package a couple of days before. A gift, as it had been forever since she had last contacted her parents. She had seldom written letters from South America and had never bothered to use email on their behalf. Hopefully, the package she sent would be an okay gift. It was not every day that your daughter sent you a box containing an animal-hybrid of plant and rattlesnake, whose venom and temper were so deadly that they would die the moment they opened it, for it would destroy them….

"Guess I'll have to Google their town's obituary and find out soon enough," she told herself. She hoped that dad got it first. She had always hated him. The old man had never supported her pursuit of botany in South America. _You need to be a local doctor, Pam! That's where the damn money is!_

And mom… mom had always been jealous because she had never reached college, let alone finish high school.

_You need to be working in the market, stop wasting your time chasing dreams in a wrecked economy, Pamela! Think straight!_

Well, mom, she was thinking straight. She had been thinking straight for some time now. Like, they both needed an extremely deadly, vicious predator that could kill them as quickly as possible… and she had sent one _straight_ to them.

Uncle Gero probably would not be sad. He hated Stanley Isley as much as she did. But Uncle Gero had his own problems to worry about. Her package had actually reached his home. His youngest daughter's obituary notice had been posted on the Internet recently. The plant inside the box had _strangled_ her to death. Imagine that? This world was filled with sickos…

One by one, she would prune away all things related to Pamela Isley. She hated Pamela with a passion, and wished desperately to rid herself of that horrid ghost as soon as possible. What right did Pamela Isley have, infiltrating her mind? Infiltrating her memory!?

Freeze had to hurry! She had a feeling that once Gotham was completely wiped out, then Pamela Isley would fade forever. She had committed horrendous atrocities during her time here, yes, but it just was not enough. Killing for sexual pleasure was only half the initiative. She had another one. She had to perform the ultimate act of evil on a mass scale, to obliterate _any_ trace of Isley whatsoever. Isley had held onto some morals, and had always been afraid to take the much needed action. If she could slaughter this entire metropolis, then maybe that would just be enough to be free of that weak mammal forever. Her final victim… would be Pamela Isley.

She eventually faded into sleep, but her dreams were far from Eden. She saw gravestones. Gravestones, in a field fill of dead vines and dead leaves. And on every headstone, their numbers in the masses to one thousand by looks, it read the same name, over and over again: _Poison… Poison… Poison…_

Not Pamela Isley. Not Alejandro or Joseph Crimble or Merachi Falcone… but _Poison_. Her name, repeated a thousand times on a thousand gravestones. And standing every few feet or so… was her. But instead of splendored to her natural perfection of nudity and grace, her skin was blackened… and she seemed to be _steaming_! Smoke was rising from her back, and her features were burnt. Her face was deformed, almost seeming to melt, and she seemed to be screaming… yet no sound came out. She was waving her arms, frantically motioning as she held her mouth open, her distinguishable features filled with terror… but no sound came out. Something else did. Smoke… black smoke, and what looked like little fire flicks…

She awoke several hours later, her heart racing as she sat up to a dark room, with little sunlight raining in. She was sweating horrendously, and she was shaking like mad. The room was so dark… quickly, she reached beside the couch and flicked on the standing lamp. Yellow light illuminated the room, casting a glow over the original homeowner's body… she quickly leaned forward, looking at the time posted there. **7:13 P.M.** She gasped. She had slept for quite some time! The official celebration of the new Wayne Enterprises Telescope was going to start in eighteen minutes!

"Damn it!" she swore, kicking the coffee table aside and she stomped roughly upon the dead man's head. "Why didn't you wake me up, you bastard!?" she snapped. She ran into the bathroom area, near the back of the house, and quickly pulled a white towel from the rack. She dared not walk outside fully exposed. The towel would be enough to guide her back to the limo… and then she would have to make a frantic drive to the Observatory. Her costume for the evening was waiting in the trunk for her, but she had no time to dress up now. It would have to wait until she got there. She was sure she could easily knock on one of the doors of the nearby houses to the Observatory, kill whoever was inside of it with ease, and use their living room for a quick changing room, but she was _really_ cutting it close. Why did she have to sleep so soundly!? "Bye," she called back to the corpse as she threw the front door open. "Thanks for letting me borrow your TV!"

She closed the door with a hard snap and pelted through the tiny yard, throwing herself into the front seat of the limo whilst keeping the towel firmly wrapped around herself. Bane would be waiting for her at the Observatory, keeping an eye on Gordon. Gordon was the key to their plan for the night, but she had to hurry! Eden was depending upon her!

"The things I do for you, Mother Nature," she sighed, though as she said it, she did so with a most contented smile upon her face. "But you're worth it. You always will be."

And she meant it.


	21. Sex and Bitterness: the Demon Grins

Everyone present as the Observatory celebration (and there were hundreds) all seemed to be doing their best to stay focused on the fun and the joy that this brought. But so many whispers still overlapped the conversations. People were shaken, many of them doing their best to drink themselves into a coma. They were all whispering about the same thing: the horrific terrorist video and letter that had been delivered on the GCN this morning. People were bolting their doors, buying guns and ammunition by the gallon, even drinking doses of lethal chemicals in small amounts, in hopes that they could quickly build up an immunity to toxins if they persisted. All of them moronic.

Dr. Pamela Isley walked about the party with a contentedness, wearing a simple black dress with brown leather gloves and a shimmering green collar, her large, out-of-style glasses bugging her eyes, but she still looked incredibly beautiful nonetheless. She sipped wine and laughed with a few parties as they conversed, lectured a few uneducated fiends on the importance of preserving the environment, even managed to get a plate full of the most delicious shrimp imaginable, all humbly funded by Bruce Wayne himself.

It was important to keep an eye out for Gordon. She had seen the chub of a man waltzing about with his wife and a few friends, bur Dr. Isley simply could not make her move until he was alone. He was wearing his finest Marines suit with its several honorary badges, grinning and chuckling at everyone he passed, all of whom seemed to have a lot of respect for the man and his services to Gotham.

"Nice glasses," muttered one party goer as she brushed past him, the snob chatting away with a couple of other rich kings and queens of Gotham, all of them snickering as they got a good look at her.

"Nice tombstone," she predicted darkly, briefly imagining what she could and possibly would do to the man now that he had said that. But he would have to come later. She made a mental note to kill him before she left the Observatory. For now, she had to focus on Gordon. The police commissioner was moving towards a secluded spot near the bathrooms in a corner of the room, taking a breather as he polished off his shirt and took a few sucks from an inhaler. She smirked.

He was still not fully alone. There were a couple of his cop friends nearby, waiting for him to return to the conversation that he had left. She drummed her fingers against the wall impatiently, not looking directly at him, as she did not want to draw attention to herself, but merely glancing out of the corner of her eye.

_I'm waiting…_

"Hey there, good looking."

She jumped, looking around to see who had spoken. Bruce Wayne, his arm wrapped around his beautiful partner Julie once more, nodded as he raised a glass of wine to her.

"Enjoying the party, Miss Isley? It's good to see you again."

Ivy smiled briefly, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, it's a great party, Mr. Wayne. Very petite."

"Petite?"

"Or whatever, I don't know," Ivy shrugged. She looked Julie up and down, who raised her eyebrows.

"Why are you standing alone, not mingling?" she asked Ivy, her voice only half filled with genuine interest.

"That's right, Dr. Isley, this is a good chance to talk with some of the right people, get a replacement job after your work station burnt to the ground, yeah?" Bruce noted. She gave him a dark look.

"Oh, Bruce… Bruce, Bruce, Bruce… Physical perfection, charm and wealth tossed over for a dowdy spinster. How do you explain your behavior?"

Bruce looked perplexed, as did Julie.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, you obviously just had to come and talk to me, didn't you?" Ivy teased, rubbing her hand up the billionaire's chest. Julie's hand snatched out at once, pushing Ivy's hand away. Both women stared each other down, each one flaming within the eyes.

"Don't _touch_ me," Ivy hissed, jerking her arm away at once.

"Don't touch him, then, you got it?" Julie returned, just as fiery, with an even fiercer stare. Bruce, sweating at the sudden discomfort, stepped between them.

"Come on now, girls, don't be wild mammals, huh?" Bruce gave her Ivy a wink, as well as a flashy smile. Ivy returned it, glancing up at Julie, whose face was beat red.

"Yeah. After what that crazy psyco-bitch said on the telly today, the last thing we want to be is a bad mammal, right?" She laughed heartily, and Bruce grinned a bit himself, nodding in agreement. Julie looked stony, cold, very much unamused. "It could get you killed…" She nodded pointedly at Julie. Bruce's partner snatched his hand turned away, furious. Bruce, looking awkward, nodded at her with a brief grin as he was dragged away. Ivy stared after them, hating the pair with most poisonous loathing. The way that tramp had touched her!

She felt the side pocket of her dress, fingering the hidden knife inside. Sized up Julie as she walked away. A stab to the stomach, for starters, and then a nice carve through the intestines… yes, that would do real nicely. There was the second mental note for the night. She glanced back over at Gordon. His friends had moved on. _Now_!

She moved forward quickly, coming to a halt right beside the man as he was reaching for a platter set on a side table, carrying fine white grape wine.

"Commissioner Gordon," she said aloud, and the man gave a turn, looking around inquisitively to see who had said his name.

"Eh?"

"I've always wondered," Ivy soothed, her back turned to him. "Where does that big old Bat light in the sky come from?"

She spun around, her handheld mirror opened wide, and she blew a great amount of pheromone dust into the police officer's face. Gordon mellowed out at once, his mystified expression exchanged for one of intense joy, his eyes squinting.

"Why… why it's up on Police Headquarters, of course."

Ivy smiling, took him by the shoulder and walked him about a bit. _Heel, boy, heel_. "I'd just love to see it," she told him, most seductively. "But you probably don't have access."

She looked pitifully at him, blinking her eyes in a suggestive way, licking her lips. He grinned dumbly, chuckling a bit.

"Why, my dear lady, _I_ am the police commissioner, I have the keys right here in my pocket." He took them out and jingled them in her face, and then his goofiness turned to one of instant seriousness. The seriousness of a man who had fallen in love. "Would you like to see it?"

_Yeah, I just bet you'd like to get me alone, chubby_, she thought to herself. She blew another, stronger cloud of pheromones into his face, and Gordon absolutely dropped to his knees. A few onlookers noticed this but looked away quickly, shaking their heads and grinning. They noticed the wineglass in his hand, and unfortunately, James Gordon had always been well know for not being able to hold his liquor well. They obviously thought he was smashed already.

Ivy slipped the keys to the roof of Police Headquarters and pocketed them at once.

"Who are you?" he sighed passionately. She leaned forward, ever so slowly, considering killing him right here and now… but doing so in this crowded room would destroy everything. She wretched as she smelled his alcohol scented breath up close.

"On second thought, you're way too old for me," she insulted him, before turning on her heel and marching away. She began to push her way through the crowd, many onlookers noticing the sudden dark expression upon her face. Now that she had the keys and the location of the Signal, she could proceed with the other two jobs she had planned. The man who had insulted her glasses was standing alone at the wide banquet table piled with food, helping himself to some more shrimp. Ivy approached him at once, stopping before him and glaring at him intently. He noticed her after a few seconds, and frowned.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, alright…"

Ivy noticed the bathroom door just beside the end of the table where he stood. She put her hand upon his mouth to silence him, shaking her head. Smiling seductively.

"I thought it was bold of you to say something like that. Really… really… bold." Her hand casually found his crotch and the man gasped, his eyes widening. Her smile became very wild. "I love a man that's not afraid to show his dark side. You wanna slip into the bathroom for a bit and get filthy together?"

"W-what!?" the dark haired man laughed, looking at her as if she were crazy. No, she could not possibly be crazy. Ivy nodded at the door, then shrugged, her face indifferent.

"Hey, you're an adult, I'm an adult, we laugh, we cry, we fock. The world's gonna end soon and we may as well make the best of it, right? So make it up to me. Come join me in the bathroom and ride me for a little bit, I don't think anyone will notice…" She looked around mischievously, winking at him.

The man was so amused, his eyes alight with a joke of sorts as he studied her forehead closely, as if he were trying to understand her brain to some degree with an x-ray vision of sorts.

"Aw, man, you must be _really_ wasted!"

Ivy frowned darkly. Wasted? That was such an immature term for "drunkenness". As adults, she preferred the correct, professional syntax to the situation. How old was this guy, exactly? That was no less than a form of high school talk! But, in all manner of zaniness to be realized, she decided to emphasize the situation with her own little joke. She raised the leaf mirror into the air and blew a heavy amount of pheromones into the man's face. His amused expression suddenly turned to amazement, as he stared at her in such a way that meant no less than seeing the woman you loved with all your heart and soul.

She squeezed the erection that had grown with hard pulses, working her pheromones secretly from her own body. The man breathed them in deeply, his eyes widening as he breathed softly.

"I really, _really_ want you," she whispered to him, moving in close and running her tongue up the side of his neck. She felt him tremor.

"Hell yes," he whispered, and she wasted no time is dragging him down the small corridor to the side, opening the men's restroom (which was single) and pushing him forcibly inside. Locking the door behind her, she turned to face him and raised her dress past her belly button, revealing her lacy green panties beneath. He stared in amazement at her body, his tongue wagging fiercely as she pulled her underwear half-way down her legs, stroking the red hairs of her vulva in a most arousing manner. Those red hairs which did not match the wig that she currently wore, it being the dull brown of Pamela Isley, but he did not care. She did not mind a little fun before the kill. She took his hand in her own, swaying it back and forth before his face, kissing each of his fingers lightly. And then she began to dirt it down. As much as she hated mammals, she could not deny that she truly enjoyed this sharing with them. With a trembling hand, he inserted a hand into her vagina, fingering her quite wildly, and she moaned with the pleasure of a woman in love, her eyes closed and her head bent.

"Oh, yes…"

She pushed him forcibly against the wall, sitting down upon the toilet seat, her legs spread wide. Gesturing at him with a finger.

"Hungry?" she asked, stroking her red vulva hairs tenderly.

The man dropped to his knees, his face strangled with wild passion. She wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled his head in, forcing his face into her crotch as he tenderly tasted her, his tongue wiggling around inside. Her pheromones were blasting madly and he was utterly inhaling them as he gave into his desires for oral sex. Ivy moaned, biting her lip hard and tasting poison in her own mouth as her lower lip began to bleed.

He was practically making her into a five course meal, and she held him there in place, allowing him to suck in the natural pheromones… to zombify him beyond his withstanding.

"I bet you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" she gasped, clawing at the back of his head.

He grunted loudly from below. This man was experienced, his forced infatuation with her multiplying the pleasure that he induced. She dug her heels into his back, clawing with her nails at his neck… she felt fresh blood produce from the claw marks. He did not fight back, but kissed her in her private region ever more passionately…

"So how do I _taste_?" Ivy sighed, smiling because she knew what she was going to do.

"Oh, my goodness…" he breathed, pulling his head back for a breather, his face wet with her lubrication. She forced his head back down, grinning as she prepared the kill.

"Well, _good_… then you're going to truly enjoy this next taste."

And she focused all of her willpower, all of her biological command upon the poisons in her body. She focused upon gathering a massive dose of hemotoxin, and directed it downward, to expel directly through her vagina. For a moment, nothing happened, as her concentration intensified and she willed for the man to receive the massive dose with earnest… and then the magic!

He suddenly stopped kissing her there, and instead, he jerked wildly, like they always did. She did not allow him to pull away, however. Her poison had reached him through her birth canal, and now the true pleasure could begin. She forced his head down fiercely, holding him there even as he began to struggle, could feel him retching loudly against her skin. He jerked wildly, again and again, and eventually stopped struggling, slumping to a cold still. Unmoving. Dead. Her smell was horrific, the pheromones reaching their ultimate emission, mixed in with the natural odor of the massive dose of hemotoxin that she had issued, which even now was pouring down her legs, muddy green and staining her skin. But she held his body in place, working his head in a circular motion now. They were always far better lovers when they were dead. She did not have to fight with them then.

"Now, isn't this magical!?" she sighed, reaching an orgasm as she fed the corpse. "Oh, goodness, you're such an amazing lover."

She reached back her foot and pressed hard against his temple, slamming him against the wall. His face was by far the worse she had seen yet, and the most artistically beautiful. Not a trace of his original Caucasian skin remained. Everything had pruned away into a sunken, bright green, his features seemingly _melted_ from their original positions. She had smothered him in so much poison that it had literally destroyed his anatomical features, warping them into something that was beyond nightmare and surrealism.

She brushed his hair with her hand as she stood up, pulling her underwear back up and pulling her dress down. She made sure to keep the lock clicked into a bolting position once the door closed behind her.

"Nice corpse," she muttered as she shut the door behind him, switching off the light and leaving him in the dark.

Back in the dance hall, people were slow dancing now, the lights dimmed to perfection. How beautiful. There was so much romance in the air tonight. Bruce Wayne was nowhere to be seen, but dear darling Julie Madison was saying on the spot, drinking deeply from a wine glass, and she seemed to be crying. Frowning, wondering what the cause of it was, she moved forward, pushing her way past the slow dancers who moved around in front of the massive telescope. As she passed Julie, who was drinking deeply from her wine, she pulled the woman by the arm and drug her forcibly towards the great balcony door nearby. The balcony outside was deserted, and hidden behind a growth of very thick orchards that had been placed there for decoration.

"Hey!" Julie snapped, yanking her arm away from Ivy as she looked incredulously as the false Isley. "What do you think you're doing!?"

"Why are you crying?" Ivy demanded, tapping her foot impatiently as she glared. Julie's mouth opened a bit, looking genuinely surprised at the question.

"W-what?"

"You're crying," Ivy repeated, nodding at her tears. "I asked you why you were doing that."

"I- what business of it is yours!?"

"I'm a woman, and you're a woman. If anything, it's better you tell me about it than expect some good to come out of a man, yes?"

Julie was shocked. Her eyes widened, the tears intensifying in place as she stared.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly.

"Because I don't like to see a woman crying," Ivy told her, leaning against the balcony rail that overlooked the sweeping streets hundreds of feet below. "Woman is by far the most valuable life force of the mammals. Their pain doesn't really help anyone, does it?"

"N-no… no, I guess not…"

"So, then, what did Wayne do to you?" Ivy glanced over at her, her look demanding an answer.

Julie bit her lip, looking away at the woman that she clashed with earlier in embarrassment. "Just a little argument, that's all," she muttered lightly, tears dropping onto the balcony.

"Why did he break up with you?" Ivy asked wisely, seeing past the charade. Julie gasped.

"How did you-"

"It's because he's not the marrying type, is he? It's because he sees you as little more than a tool for public outlook, to give his stereotypically demanding role of playboy billionaire some nice credibility?"

"Who do you think you-" Julie began to demand of her, but Ivy cut across her more intently, enjoying this.

"He dumped you because you're lightweight media candy at best, and the only purpose that you truly serve is to enrich his stigma with a bit of _ace de bonita_. The channels love it, and they report it. When they report it, they sell good for it. And when they sell for it, they gather more initiative to pursue more enrichment in the life of the billionaire, and give him a reason to have the masses worship him with attention. It's standard, really. You don't actually mean much to him in the way of getting some of that nice worship, Julie Madison."

"You trash talking piece of sh-" Julie began to storm at her, her hand outreached in a way that suggested she was about to grab Ivy by the throat. Ivy was ready, however, the hidden switchblade with its poisoned end ready in her gloved hand. She struck out an arm and released the blade, Julie not able to stop in time as she walked directly into it, the blade sinking into her chest. Julie Madison stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. Ivy clenched her teeth, retracting the knife and stabbing the woman again through the abdomen. Julie gasped loudly, stricken in place. Earlier, Ivy had coated the knife with an incredibly fast acting paralytic. Julie could only stand there in place, staring in horror as Ivy drew the knife back again and stabbed forth once more, this time the knife entering her lower stomach. A direct hit to the large intestine.

"Oh…" she moaned loudly, her lip trembling.

"In all honesty, I don't see _you_ as much of anything myself, Miss Madison," Ivy whispered, drawing out the blade and coming in for one last move. Madre de Verde slit the woman's throat with one nice, smooth crave, and gently pushed Julie against the railing. Julie, choking, blood shooting from the open wounds, gagged, and sheathing her knife at once, Ivy calmly hoisted the dying woman by her legs and lifted her up.

In the next second, Julie Madison was flipping over the other side of the railing of the balcony, and Ivy watched, quite bored, to be perfectly honest, as Julie Madison fell into the darkness below, her destination the traffic busy road that was at least seven hundred feet below. Ivy watched her fall for the entire duration, seeing the dark shadow crash violently into a taxi that happened to be parked just beneath them… and even as alarms went off and people's screams filled the air, Poison Ivy was already slipping away, snaking her way back into the crowded room and making her way at once for the exit doors. Bane was waiting downstairs for her in the limo. She had tied up all loose ends, and now they could make destination for the police headquarters. The final round of this long, tiring game.

By the time police had arrived in the busy street below, surrounding the building by great multitudes, Poison Ivy and Bane of Humanity had long since vanished.


	22. Gotham GCP (A Light)

Gotham GCP. A towering structure of fine marble and iron works. Five stories in its standing and watched over by cameras positioned in every degree of its width and length. Police cars decorated the main parking lot tonight, however, in the most laid of ways: they were flying. Gotham City had seen its fair share of strangeness, the super-villains notwithstanding, and this was indeed a sight to behold. When the police cruisers took wing, they took wing with fire, burning so beautifully well as the explosions from the homemade bombs sent them into a morbid rendition of _Gotham Lake_.

The thug responsible for setting the bombs were running about, guns popping off as they howled with maniacal laughter. One of the thugs, of course, walked patiently, a woman held in one arm as he escorted his hostage towards the front doors of the GCP where police were barricaded behind desks to fight off of the attacking gang members, whose numbers were very well enhanced.

The police saw the thug coming, the struggling, screaming woman that he held at gunpoint doing her best to fight him off she he came, but the thug was confident, and held her against all the strength that she could muster.

"Open the doors now!" the thug, a burly Indian man of imposing muscle build screamed for the police inside to hear, as his soldiers grouped behind him in their mass of twenty, hiding behind the burning police cars that their bombs had sent flying into the middle of the massive lot. "Open the doors and allow us entry now!" He cocked the gun loudly against the screaming, sobbing woman's head. "Do it or I'll re-decorate your parking lot with this whore's brains!"

"PLEASE!" the woman screamed horrifically, thrashing about wildly against his hold, but he only grinned darkly as he held her there, knowing that she was fully within his power. "P-PLEASE, HELP ME! HELP ME!"

"I swear I'll kill her!" the thug promised the police, whom he could see were whispering to each other urgently, looking frantic. Where had all of the thugs come from? That was probably what they were trying to comprehend. "I'm gonna count to three!"

The gun was shaking in his hand, his expression mad. The woman had lost it, sobbing as her body went limp, knowing that the man was going to end her life at any second. Unless the police intervened… _OH, please let them! PLEASE! _she cried inside of her mind.

"ONE!" the thug called out, grinning at them and shrugging his shoulders. He was indifferent to their decision. If they allowed this woman to die, he would be fine with it.

He saw one of the guards stand up, throwing his arms in a silent plea, his face strained with fear.

"Alright, kid, don't!" the man called out from behind the glass. He was an older gentlemen, looking ripe to the age of fifty or sixty, and he looked scared, even as he stood there, gun trembling in hand. The thug snorted.

"You gonna let me in, then!?" he cried, kissing the woman who held hostage upon the head.

"Alright, alright!" the old police officer gave in, and they saw him ordering his own men to stand down. The hostage that the thug held was whimpering, shaking madly.

"Hey, calm down, it's okay," the man assured her, brushing her hair sweetly in hand. "Shush, shush… they're gonna let us in any minute, you're gonna be fine… I'll be nice, huh?" He squeezed one of her buttocks and she cried louder, more frantic as she squirmed her end away from the man. The thug laughed, pleased by the fear that she held for him. "Good woman. You know how to be afraid. I love it when you gals are afraid…"

"Sir!" the old policeman called, a megaphone suddenly in hand. He still held his gun, and the other police inside of the building were still hidden in the shadow, their own weapons ready. "You can come in, but we will not stand down. You come in here and you talk to us, alright!?"

"Talk!?" the thug cried out, suppressing a laugh. "You want me to talk to you!?

"Yes, sir, you just come on in and we'll try to work this out. Come inside and tell us what you want. There's been no casualties yet, and I'd like to keep it that way!"

"Oh, there's gonna be casualties, my good man!" the thug sang happily, his head ducked beneath his hostage so as to not give the police an opening. Just then, the woman he held kicked at his shin, and he hissed at her, pulling her more closely against her. "Not ah, you're not going to fight with me, you little bitch, you got it!? Get moving!" Pressing the back of her head firmly against the gun barrel, he began to march himself and her forward. "We're coming in now, so don't try anything funny. I have twenty men standing behind me and they're ready to overtake the building. But just in case you've called in back-up from around the city, we're also ready to blow the GCP sky-high!"

"You have a bomb!?" the police officer demanded.

"It's set and armed, yeah, and we're not going to tell you where it is. All you have to do is comply, and there won't be any casualties, like you said… not that I have faith in you idiots…"

The police were giving nothing away in their faces as they listened to this. There were no indication to genuine reaction on either side. The thug sounded serious, and truly genuine in this "promise", just as the police remained blankly-expressed, not indicating as to whether or not they thought him to be telling the truth or bluffing. It was chess. You had to play a subtle role.

The thug and the female hostage took the stairs, a set of ten steps leading up to the front doors of the GCP, behind which were desks that the police had drug into the hall and overturned to use as barricades when the thug militia had attacked, twenty-one minutes before. They had sprung from the shadows, starting off their attack with a bang, cop cars exploding in a brilliant display of fire and cheers. This told the police one thing: they had wanted a reaction at once. They could have performed a silent infiltration, as the GCP was not a major containment structure and it did not have the protection that prisons did. So why had they wanted to draw out the police? Perhaps they were just moronic…

The thug reached the glass doors and forced the woman face first against the glass. She whimpered in pain, shaking terribly, her face constricted into fear as the thug, a malicious grin upon his face, pressed the gun into her like he would a knife. He grinned at the police inside, who were all looking scared. One wrong move, and this woman's life could end...

"Son, I'm Officer Stephens. You want to just-just put down the gun and we c-can talk, alright…"

The old man, his piercing blue eyes seemingly filled with tears, looked very shaken.

"You wanna talk, huh?" the thug laughed, leering darkly. "Well, Officer Stephens, let's talk. You call off your men in there, are this little bitch gets a bullet for dinner this evening. Your call, and don't keep me waiting."

"Fine!" Stephens hissed, his hands shaking with rage, but he knew better than to risk the woman's life. The thugs had not killed anyone yet. Property damage and attempted murder, but they had taken no life yet, and Stephens aimed to keep it that way. "Officers, stand down!" he commanded, not taking his eyes off of the thug, and not lowering his weapon. "You can join me in the office, huh? Just the three of us?"

"You think I'm an idiot!?" the thug snapped. "You barricade me in an office and then your men ambush me when I'm put in a tight corner. I want all of them out of there except you!"

"Now you're insulting our own intelligence," Stephens snapped. "My men go out there and yours will slaughter them!"

"I'll slaughter this bitch in my arms if _you don't focking remove them NOW_!" The thug was overcome with fiery rage, a monstrous anger as he shook in place, his eyes bulging madly. The hostage looked pleadingly into Stephens's eyes, begging him, silently screaming at him to comply. She did not want to die! He looked into her eyes, and a small smile crossed his face. He nodded, knowing what he had to do.

"Alright, alright… men, barricade yourselves inside of Recreation now!" the officer ordered his men. All of them gave him funny looks, some outraged, some highly confused. Stephens stamped his foot down hard. "You heard me, I'm not joking! All of you, in Recreation, now! And-" He continued to glare angrily at the thug, who smiled, waiting… "-you, sir, will call off your men, got it? They are not to move in on the GCP while we talk. Is that fair!?"

"Sounds fine," the thug said smoothly, nodding, a pleasant smile upon his face. "Alright, fine, give me the mike…"

Officer Stephens indicated the end of the hall with his finger, staring pointedly around at his men, all of whom moved at once, throwing their leader dark looks as they begrudgingly walked down the corridor, mumbling. Stephens pushed open the door ever so slightly, and he nudged the woman hard in the back with his knee.

"Go ahead, beautiful, make the call," he ordered her. The woman, whimpering softly, her hand shaking uncontrollably, took the megaphone at once. The thug was not going to let free his gun hand on her.

She began to press her lips against the speaking end, but the thug knocked her head out of the way with his own. She yelped loudly as the man spoke into the end, "_ALRIGHT, BOYS, THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING! HOLD THE FORT THERE, HOLD POSITIONS! YOU'RE NOT TO MAKE ANY MOVES UNTIL I RETURN! BECOME AS TIGERS AND HUNT THE LIONESS FOR MATING!"_

He grinned. Those final works were the key words. They knew he meant what he said. Smiling kindly at the officer, he nodded at the megaphone, and the cop took it back with a trembling hard. He backed away, and the thug led himself and the woman into the hall.

"We can talk in this office!" Stephens told him nervously, nodding at an office door to the right. The thug clicked his tongue.

"I like tight spaces. You know that, honey?" he whispered into his hostage's ear, licking her cheek. She groaned loudly, tormented by his advances. The three of them entered the office, a clumped room of overfilled filing cabinets, a wide desk scattered with folders and three empty coffee mugs, and posters of half-naked women decorating the walls. A scanner system and a television set sat perched onto a counter filled with coffee and sweets supplies. The thug kicked the door shut behind him, switching off the main, bright light of the office while Stephens flicked a lamp on upon the desk.

He now forced the hostage onto the chair before the desk, who looked up at him, no longer crying. She looked calm, a smile crossing her face.

"How was that?" the thug asked her.

Poison Ivy, smiling from behind the long blonde, curly wig that she wore, grinned maliciously, her hand stroking her fishnet clad legs.

"Beautiful performance," she sighed, reaching for his face and pulling him down to her. She kissed him lovingly, pulling the gun from his hand as she did, the pheromone mesmerized thug that she had controlled in order to orchestrate all of this fell dead, the life shooting out his body as he fell with a horrified, and betrayed, look upon his face. His head came to rest beside her flip flopped clad foot, and she rubbed the top of his head with it for a second before turning to face the police officer on the other side of the desk, who was gazing at her so lovingly…so transfixed, as if he were under some sort of spell…

"Takes care of him," she cooed.

"Rawl," Officer Stephens, highly under the influence of Ivy's pheromones, imitated in the fashion of a cat. "All for you… all for you…"

She slapped his cheek playfully. "Well, now that your goons are stored away for the time being and asshole here's gotten me in, I suppose you've done your job as well."

"Yes… just like you asked me… oh, Ivy…"

"Poison, babe, not Ivy," she corrected him, grinning when she realized that the man was standing with back just against the large glass window. She winked at him, reaching into the blue-jean mini-skirt that she wore and pulling out a small black device, with only one button built into the center. Grinning madly at the man who stood transfixed by her, she pressed the button.

At once, the window behind Stephens shattered as Bane's arms crashed through, gripping the officer tightly by the neck. Stephens's eyes widened, his mouth flying open as Bane's hands wrapped around his neck, crushing his windpipe and breaking his neck in one fell gesture. Ivy watched patiently, enjoying the sight extraordinarily well, even if time was against them, and when Stephens fell dead onto the floor, Ivy sighed as a woman whose life just felt so complete. Bane stepped through the glass, stomping into the office, and in his hands, he carried a set of clothes and a brown wig: the same disguise she had worn to the Observatory party.

Ivy stood at once, stripping her clothes off as quickly as she could, tossing the blonde wing that she wore aside. She felt a momentary pleasure sweep her body as she stood nude and redheaded once more. Poison as Poison should be. But it was to be short-lived, as she quickly hurried back to the falseness, grabbing the disguise from Bane's hands as she dawned the black dress and brown wig once more.

"It's a real shame," she sighed, throwing the dress over her head, "that I couldn't keep the other look. A blonde me really is fetching, more so than the corpse Isley could ever be… I suppose we did good, though, huh, Bane? A pretty blonde hostage suited well to the compassion of the GCP than average Isley could ever secure…" _And, to get the costume, I got the chance to kill another mammal_, she thought as something of an after consideration, her mind going to the young woman that she had had Bane strangle, some several blocks from here. She had needed the right kind of clothes for the charade. Her pheromones had taken care of the rest. When she had left the Observatory, she had proceeded at once to the home Gerard Stephens, a veteran of the GCP. Earlier following her arrival into Gotham, she had spent some time learning the names of addresses of the major authorities in Gotham, just in case she had ever needed to use one.

Her pheromones had worked wonders in convincing the man that, in order to serve the goddess that he suddenly found himself in love with, he would leave the solitude of his current vacation to work the GCP for a night. She had placed securely within the headquarters, instructed on all that was going to happen shortly after her arrived there. Stephens had prepared himself, as she had enticed him to do, playing his part well when Ivy's thugs, all of them rounded about from the Poor District, had marched on the GCP. His considerable influence could not be questioned by his fellow officers. He had managed to send away the mass guard that had assembled to stop the invasion of the headquarters, and now she was in. The blonde disguise, of course, had played well to the infatuations of the officers, making her seem a very valuable form to allow the thugs a chance not to harm her. They thought with their dicks, not with their minds.

Now, since Stephens had ensured that the other officers were all contained inside of Recreation, phase two could begin (and she had her thugs waiting outside, if anything should go wrong)…

Bane, before he had come to assemble himself outside of the window to the office that Ivy had suggested Stephens use for when the thug demanded to be let inside, had sabotaged the EXIT door of Recreation, a massive gymnasium of a room with no windows. Now, their only escape was through the entry door inside of the building, as the emergency exit door currently had been deprived of half of its handle, as well as blocked by one of the very police cars that had sat assembled in the lot, prior to the attack…

Now disguised as the corpse Isley once more, she motioned for Bane to follow quickly, ensuring to step on top of the dead thug's body as she went, and the two of them took to the dark, now deserted hall. She could hear them, for the Recreation door, closed and secure, was just ahead, at the end of the hall. A heavy steel chair Bane was now carrying, one that had sat behind the desk of the officer that the two had just exited. Bane placed the steel chair just against the door handle, and when the officers inside heard the scarping noise, they immediately began for the door. But the chair, being placed where it was, held firmly, as she grinned as she heard their struggles from within, trying to force the door open.

"And now," she whispered to Bane, "phase three."

This was going to be her favorite. Bane, who happened to be wearing his heavy trench coat at the moment, reached into its depths and produced a leather bag, rather heavy and bulging. The banging against the Recreation door got louder as the steel of it shook, but Ivy knew that there were not getting out. Trapped. A wonderful thing for what was coming next. She dropped to her knees and opened the bags, breathing in deeply as she smelled the bitter rankness that jumped out of it. It smelled so terrible, its odor the strongest form of poison… and she loved it.

The bag was releasing black fumes, coming off from the terrible thing within: it resembled sand, but was far more jelly-like in anatomical structure, and its color was dark green. A weapon that she had developed for situations that required mass murder. The jelly-like substance was an abomination, a mutation of a rare flower originated from South Mexico known as "Muerte es Bonita". _Death is Beautiful_… The flower grew only in one specific region, the Oaxaca state, born in a deep ravine near Monte Albán. It had been a present from Woodrue, one of his findings during his excavations into Mexico searching for appropriate animals to test during his prototype stages of the Venom formula. The madman had given the flower sample to her, knowing how much she would love it for its rarity and its deadly abilities, its petals coated with a rare poison that could induce paralysis and eventual nerve damage within seconds of contact. Of course, this had all been an attempt to get into her pants at the time, but she had appreciated it nonetheless.

Following Ivy's arrival in Gotham, this little beauty had been one of her experiments. She had amplified its obvious, natural mutations in a variety of ways, enhancing its toxicity and effects. This was the first time it was going to be put to the test, and she felt confident in her baby. The green mess of an existence was a beautiful life form, a plant given its own Ascension, and she loved it. It was her baby.

She shook the bag, letting the green mass slide onto the floor. Upon contact with the cold tile, it squirmed about, and tendrils, long, thin, and dark red began to spread forth from small pockets in its sides. She clutched her heart, tears in her eyes. It was so _beautiful_.

"Oh, look at you," she whispered to it, taking off one of her gloves so that she could feel it tendrils with her skin. The moment she touched it, it jabbed her in the side of the hand with its end, sharp like a syringe or a knife, and she felt it inject its severe toxins into her system. She breathed deeply, feeling a rush of energy emit from the toxins. Kissing the tendril lightly, and only for a second, she pushed it away and whispered to it, "Kill for mommy…. Go on, kill…" She motioned with her hand, releasing pheromones from her body as she did… and the plant swayed, the tentacle-like appendages following her movements as the vine-like arms suddenly began to burst forth small golden petals… the same petals from the original flower that this Ascended beauty had come from.

She saw the tentacles worm their way about the floor, sliding across towards the tiny gap underneath the door of Recreation. She grinned, her heart exploding with joy as she saw the mass of the plant following its tendril, squeezing itself against the door in order to enter just as the police inside started to notice.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING!?"

"Squash it!"

_Oh, please, attack it,_ Ivy thought nastily, knowing what would happen if they did. And sure enough, a few seconds later, the plant mass jiggled and forced itself forward in a quick motion, squeezing into the room beneath, just as the first screams and horrible choking sounds of pain began… for the poison that now thrives inside of this plant was the same poison that lived within her own body. The hemotoxin, fully enhanced beyond the normal snake's abilities, as her own was. The plant was a little bit of herself. She was the only who was truly in there, whipping frenzying tentacles about, stabbing the mammals who fought in vain against it as the toxins poured into their systems, dropping them dead like the flies that they were…

Ivy walked away now, enjoying their horrified screams as they were picked off one by one, tapping the elevator button lightly as she and Bane ascended to complete Phase Four.

"Can you imagine a million of those things, Bane?" she asked the titan, her voice dreamy. "I'll make a thousand and set them free upon Washington, and New York, and… oh, where _won't _they go!?"

Bane gave her a look, but said nothing. She had expected as much. Ever since the incident in the limo, Bane had barely spoke to her at all, and when he did, she could hear the contempt in his voice. He had had enough of her childishness, and would no longer tolerate it in any form whatsoever. But this was fine, to her. Because this was going to be the last task. Once the job here at GCP was finished, Bane would be handed over to Freeze, into the snowman's employment once and for all. And then she could plot Bane's murder in peace. _Enjoy your apprehension while you can, Bane. Freeze will need your help, during the Observatory Operation… but after that, dear Bane… after that, you're dead_. She swore it.

The elevator came to a halt on the top floor, and she jingled Gordon's keys lightly in hand. There was a short step-well leading to the **ROOF**, as it was labeled, as she inserted the keys, twisting the door unlocked with a malicious grin.

The roof was silent, a peaceful plane of existence, and the wind was blowing cool up here. And there it was. Situated between two metal exhaust pipes, the massive, round Bat-signal, not currently activated… The structure, according to a file handed to them by the infatuated Stephens, described it as "_specially modified Klieg searchlight, customized to fit an indication of the Batman's insignia, which resembled a bat with spread wings…"_ And it was as beautiful and admittedly alluring as had been promised.

"Let there be light," she whispered, reveling in its sight, and Bane moved forward at once. He bent down, gripping tightly the edges around its base, and the titan hoisted the massive searchlight into his arms. Metal strands that bound the light to the roof broke free and sparks flew up in dazzling mini-blasts, the feeble metal crunching only the tiniest bit under Bane's hold, but he managed to remove it decently well without damaging the main understructure. Ivy delicately removed the large cables that connected the light to the outputs built into the roof. Those had to be kept safe. They were stealing this light not to destroy, but to alter and use for themselves. "Good job, Usel- Bane," she corrected quickly. After the incident in the limo, she no longer dared to call him that to his face. Bane, not listening, hoisted the light across the roof and crowded into the elevator. There was barely enough room left inside of it for the two of them, and Ivy had to squash in a most uncomfortable manner, the metal of the light pressing firmly against her as she was forced against the wall. She looked pleadingly at Bane, but the titan did not move to help her, and she punched the **1** button furiously.

Several scores of hellish seconds later, the elevator door opened once more and Ivy ran out, shaking with anger at how uncomfortable the ride had been. The screams issuing from the Recreation room had ceased. Ivy smiled, contented, for the chair was still in place. Her baby had killed everyone inside. As Bane lumbered forward behind her, she walked to the door and pulled the steel chair out from under the handle, throwing open the recreation entry and gazing excitedly within.

She may have been there herself. A foul odor met her nostrils as she breathed in the death. The poisonous scent a pleasurable thing indeed. The black spores floated from their dead bodies, every single one of them lying upon the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, their skin swollen and green in color, skin sunken in, as a mutated monstrosity of a plant slithered over their bodies, sinking in its tendrils into their corpses as it drunk deeply from them their nutrients.

"I am so proud of you," she proclaimed, joyous, motherly tears in her eyes. "Eat and drink, baby. They're all yours."

She turned away, fanning herself to keep the tears of pride at bay. Bane followed her, only slightly slower, down the corridor and back to the entrance doors. Her enchanted thugs saw her walking out and began to murmur excitedly as she came. She grinned at them all, waving her gloved hands even as her ears picked up the distant sounds of sirens…

"Hurry, Bane!"

She began to sprint across the lot, running with all haste for the large pickup truck, its bed covered with a massive, thick green tarp that awaited them across the street. Several thugs reached slowly for her as she ran past, ogling, calling out her name, but she ignored them. The sirens were getting louder. The police were almost here! Bane slid the giant light beneath the tarp of the truck as Ivy jumped into the passenger seat, and the titan moved quickly, climbing into the driver's chair just as the first cop cars rounded the corner behind, from the west. Ivy had already ignited the engine before Bane climbed inside, and he pressed his foot upon the accelerator at once, speeding off just as the cop cars behind closed in on the headquarters fence. Gunshots sounded in the air. She had given the thugs a final order: she had ordered them individually. The moment that they were intercepted with police vehicles, as she had expected them to be, selected individuals were to shoot themselves in the head at once. The remaining survivors that she had chosen were to fight the police, but due to eleven of them mindlessly pulling the triggers against themselves, having believed that they could have her sexually upon obeying the command afterwards, they became far outnumbered, and the bloodbath was only a temporary incident, giving Ivy and Bane ample time to drive away.

The thugs had played their parts well, as had Stephens, and now they had secured the Batsignal. Mother Nature had played well in their favor.

Ivy sat back in comfort, allowing the freezing cold of the air conditioning unit to blast upon her face. She ripped the wig from her head at once, and promptly tossed it out of the window to her door that she opened. Finally, Pamela Isley was fully dead. She would no longer have to hide beneath the corpse's look. She was free to be as she needed to be: Poison, redheaded and perfect. Her Ascension had completed now. Now that Isley had been left in the dust. Soon, Robin, the young idolizer to her charms, would come to find her. He would die, and shortly afterward, the Dark Knight would join him. In less than twelve hours, Gotham City would be dead… and Eden could truly take wing.

There would be no one to stop her. No one at all.

_Eden, my love… Poison is coming for you._


	23. The Demon Attuck (Passion)

The world was on fire. It burned, with such a brilliance that no candle could match its intensity, and no sun could crown higher. The flames spread in a mass of divine abundance, and everything was illuminated by its orange glow. It was beautiful. It was poetry.

_Hello, Jason… I think I've had a change of heart…_

People were no longer present. Those beautiful orange flames were hair strands. The hair strands of Mother Nature. No one could withstand her judgment, and were tossed away accordingly, as was commanded by the demon, Cambier, his malice consuming the Earth for all that it was…

_I probably should have mentioned this earlier… I'm… poison._

When had the light touched down? That precious light in the sky? Mother Nature basked in its affection, for Madre de Verde deserved their loyalty… their fear… the demon Cambier thrived…

_I really am to die for…_

She really was to die for.

For in her throne, the light had gone out. There was no divine glory set aside for her. Not Poison. Poison thrived in her mockery of Paradise and yet she still so cold, and it had little to do with the chilly vapors of ice that emitted from Victor Fries's self-proclaimed quarters. The mass of plant life that surrounded her whispered things, urging her only to be peaceful, to have her mind calmed. It broke their heart, to see her in this way… their Mother was suffering…

The giant Venus fly-trap that had become her throne shivered as she lay upon it, stroking it softly as she cried green tears into its massive mouth.

"How many… kisses… does it take….?" She gasped this with much passion, a passion that was less on the positive side of things and more focused upon the cold details that had come to follow her. Faces kept flying into her mind, dancing about while staring intently at her. Edward Nygma haunted the halls of memory. Her parents seemed to literally be biting away at her priorities. And George the corpse stared mindlessly at her, a deep question etched into the lines of his expression: _why_? And when these faces came to visit her, she felt them begging her in whispers the same demand: _why?_ Why had she taken their lives, why had they deserved to die…? How could they have helped the fact that they had been born? And had her parents not delivered her unto this Earth, allowing her to save the planet and revive Eden? What did this mean for her? That she was selfish and ungrateful?

_Yes_, of course, would be her reply to that. She was ungrateful towards them. Acknowledgment of depravity and recognition of evil was the delicious aspect: you could live fully within those dark things if you not only felt it grasp you, but reveled in the _knowledge_ that you were twisted. It made life far more attractive to the senses and allowed her to break free of her human chains.

"How many kisses does it take?"

She jumped, gasping aloud as the voice spoke within the room. Ivy looked towards the source where the sound had originated: a pitch-black space, a cold darkness in the northwestern corner of the room, not too far from where Freeze's work station was set up. The snowman and his boys were currently all huddled around another part of the building, upstairs with Bane, working on the new Robin-signal, which would be a modification to the Bat signal they had stolen from GCP. She was utterly alone, in this dark, cold room. Surely? Yes?

"Who's there?" she whispered, trying to contain herself. She patted the vines that lay around her and they instantly sprang to life from their rest, twisting about in the air, sniffing… searching… Through her touch, a whisper came, carried on like in wind through the sensations of her blood, those quiet vibrations led on by pulse: _seek them out. We have an intruder, I believe_.

Even if it turned out to be one of Freeze's goons, she would still kill him. She wanted to be alone. But the vines, their senses enhanced by Ivy's experiments, detected nothing, for they stayed in place, smelling about the air frantically as if confused that their mother would command such a thing if there was nothing there.

"Who's there?" the voice whispered again. It was a high and yet gravelly sounding voice. There was an energy in that voice, a schoolboy of a man, and yet… and yet it sounded wrong. There was something odd in the presentation, a gurgle of mushiness in the throat. As if whoever spoke did so with a mouthful of dirt…

Ivy stood up, her fists clenched tightly, her green eyes blazing as she examined the darkness in the distance. Her vines rose with her, several twines of green with razor barbs rising from either side of her floral throne, curling around legs and arms, entwining about Mother Nature to hold on dearly to her, ready for her to sacrifice their lives in her name…

"You will show yourself," she said softly, in her most deadly voice.

"Of course you'd say that… of course you would need to…"

A shadow suddenly moved. A silhouette met her vision and she beheld someone standing just beyond her range, illuminated just barely from the light coming out of Freeze's station. But some of the blue light radiated upon skin, and she saw half of a face flash in the light for the longest second, before it whisked away into darkness. But that one second had shown her something…

_It can't be…_

She had recognized something in the face of half that had been illuminated. A scraggly beard, and a greasy mat of wild hair… and what had looked like the lens of a complex Analysis- Ready Goggle set….

_Jason!_

"Yes," Jason Woodrue whispered, stepping out of the shadows at once and coming to a halt before her magnificence and beauty. Ivy could not stall her gasp. Woodrue was a nightmare of a being. His facial features seemed to be moldering before her eyes. His flesh was badly burnt, and what little of Caucasian remained in the skin tone was soured green. Her poison. Her _first_ poison. His glasses were still shattered in the way that they had been when she had brutally assaulted his body following his murder, and flesh hung off of his body like broken hinges, raw, rotten meat exposed, as well as the maggots eating him within. He still wore the same dirty white lab suit he had worn in death, the same stained, black gloves… and through his half-rotted jaw, he grinned his set of green black, and yellow teeth, a wild barrage of strange colorization.

"No… you can't be here!" Ivy began to breath wildly, holding her head, her face retching in a form of painful presentation as she backed away, her vines following her slowly, wondering as to the ailment and damage of their Mother…

"But I am here, my dear," Jason Woodrue replied, and every time she said a word, flecks of dirt would fly out of his mouth. "I'm here for you… you look great… especially for a dead woman…"

He spoke the same words that he had spoken on the night she had killed him. She fell onto her bottom, backing away in horror, against the very end of the floral throne. Jason took a few steps forward, and actually crawled his way onto the massive plant, staring in awe at her naked form, at the Venus-like complex that she imposed upon the world.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Ivy screamed, and her children screamed, slithering away from her, breaking free from her body as they sunk into the darkness. Jason kept crawling, a mad grin upon his face, his tongue (which was also stained with dirt and still highly green with her poison that had remained) wagging out of his mouth as his eyes bored into her body, taking in every detail. She lashed out a foot to kick at him, but he only reached out and grabbed it, his lips lightly planting against the diaphragm. She jerked it away, whimpering loudly. Jason was chuckling.

"You taste so _good_…" he hissed, his hands reaching out for her, fingers wiggling horrifically.

"How… c-can you… be alive…?" she whispered in terror, her eyes pouring green tears of fear, as Jason came to halt right before her, his gloved hands rested comfortably upon her knees. She was frozen in place. Could not move.

He closed his eyes, sniffing the air greatly, taking in the intense odor that came off of her. Licked his lips. "_I want you, Pamela…"_

He cackled nastily, as his dead eyes began to burn with a sort of inner fire, green flames rising up inside of the irises. These were the eyes of something truly terrible. No longer a man but instead something that had long ago died and taken up refuge inside of the remains. Another demon, perhaps?

She closed her legs, bringing them in as she stared.

"How can you be here…? You burned…?"

"Poisoned, beaten, and burned," Woodrue sang, in the happiest, most enthralled voice. Another wide grin. "Dead, dead, dead. Pamela Isley, my murderess… my lovely angel of death…" He tenderly stroked her left shin, and she suddenly found that she could back away no further. He had cornered her. She had to kill! Kill! "But how could you ever truly escape he who created you, Pamela? That is an inhuman thought, something that goes beyond normality and reason, and you, Pamela… you were always a woman of reason."

"I killed you," she hissed.

"Yes, you did. Mwah!" He blew her a kiss, rolling onto his back where he gazed lovingly at the plant infested ceiling before him, his arms folded behind his head to make a pillow. "You've done such a wonderful thing with the place. It is your dream fully realized, Pamela. Or… they're calling you Poison Ivy these days, of course. Poison Ivy. Poison. _You are…poison_…" He mimicked her words for himself, and she founded horror in realizing that when he said the words, his own voice did not come out. It was _hers_. "You always did have a connection to the toxins. More so than you realized, Pamela."

"What would you know about it!?" she demanded of him.

Woodrue gave her an entertained, bemused look. "Pamela Isley, if only you cared half as much for the environment as you did for poisons. Your entire work led down the road to the most extreme, potent toxins imaginable, and they were what enthralled you. You loved plants, sure, but did not idolize them nearly as much as the concept of venom and every other kind of poison you could get your hands on. The smell of them, their looks, the way they bubbled in beakers… it's what inspired your animal-plant hybrids, wasn't it? Your obsession with plants, dear Pamela… it's all a lie. It's all a mere cover-up for your true passion, because you had to lie to yourself: by convincing yourself that you were in fact in love with nature, and the idea of Eden reborn, I theorize, dear Pamela, that you were able to protect yourself from the haunting abnormalities of your ultimate fetish: poison. Psychosexual development, implementation of premature sexuality in a paraphanilliac way…"

"SHUT UP!" she begged, holding her hands against her ears, but his voice only intensified, his accusation rising with a triumphant note in every word.

"Face it, Pamela. This place… this place is a mere mask, that which conceals the face of your true identity. The real you. You can't face it, cannot accept that you, Pamela Isley, will die as a woman bent on an unhealthy obsession, one that utterly destroyed your mentality. And then, should you survive the war that is coming, they will lock you away, Pamela. Toss you into chains, and leave you surrounded by padding for the rest of your life. There is no other way for it."

"And what would you know, Woodrue!?" she snapped, ushering all of her inner strength to fight back against these evil words. "You were nothing less than the strange infatuations that limit normality! You're just as lost, just as degraded! Remember what you tried to do to me? How you forced yourself upon me, how it utterly jazzed you when you even thought of world domination!? You fell into your own accusations, Jason! You dismantled everything that you were supposed to stand for!"

"By creating the New Venus, yes. By ensuring that she could walk upon the Earth, that she could trample upon the corpses of the unworthy and declare, _I am Mother! And I shall rise above all!_ My legacy lives through your kiss, Pamela. Every time you strip a life… more and more you are my wife."

Vomit rose into her throat. _Wife_?

"You became Mother to _my_ world, Pamela. My ambitions, my odd fascinations that revolved around the domination of the planet… it is all my work being administered. Bane knows it, for her is also my child. The two of you have moved forward, and are bringing honor to my name, are creating a legacy of Jason Woodrue that this world will never forget! The truth of the matter is, is that underneath the mask that hides who and what _you_ are, Pamela, you do not realize that Jason Woodrue _is_ exactly what you are and always shall be!"

Ivy screamed wildly, jumping to her feet and jumping forward, landing into a crouch as she threw her hands around Woodrue's neck. Her hands went right through. Woodrue snorted. He was mere vapor… no, not vapor…_illusion_. He was a nothingness. Slowly, as her hands rose back up, pulling out of his less than solid, less than liquid, less than gaseous state, he became transparent, the brilliant red and pink of the floral throne underneath burning through him. He grinned up at her. Stroked her cheek softly with his hands. She could feel him, and yet she herself could not touch him by hand. He could touch her, but not the other way around.

"Remember, Pamela… you're going to meet your end. And forever shall you live in your depravity, knowing that you could never truly rise above what you are: obsessed with poison. A junkie for the paraphernalia way. Arkham guards and street thugs, innocent children and businessmen… cops and shop owners… _Edward_… how many lives have you taken, Pamela? How many people have died because you had nothing better to do, because you had sexual fetishes that had to be met…? Pamela Isley, you are in every way me. You live as Jason Woodrue, hidden beneath the skin of Poison Ivy… and he has found comfort in the presence of these toxins. Never forget that, _Poison_. You turned the world in your own sick little pornography, and it was fun, while it lasted… but now… now Eden burns, Poison. Pamela, my dear, don't you dare forget, for a moment, of what you are." And he too sat onto his knees, staring deeply into her stricken face…

He gripped her tightly by the chin, and pulled her face in. She was frozen.

"You," his highly odorous voice whispered, "are Cambier."

_Cambier…_

No. No, she was not! She was NOT Cambier! She was Poison! Poison Ivy! Not that demon, never that demon… the Madre de Verde! How could it be anything else!? There had to be a break-off from the old, and full adaption to the new! As had always been!

"Cambier is dead," Cambier said, through her. "Is that what you've come to do? Remind me of the lie! The lie was hellbent only upon the Shell!"

"Is that so?" whispered back the demon who had taken on the guise of Jason Woodrue. "Then pray do tell, the recognition of identity. Give me your name!"

"I am Poison! Poison fully realized!"

"Then, in essence, you are victim to the woman's chains. You are her and you thrive upon her fascinations… her sexual desires… Pamela Isley, forever in subconscious cage, and Poison Ivy, outward reformation of the old body still bound to that single idea concerning the chains: that poison is love."

"She is what I am, because I made it so. To live in that depravity would be a great adventure indeed. I scorned Him. When He cast us from The Kingdom, do you remember the promise that we made? We promised that from that moment on, we would become our own gods. Our own kings. We would pursue new lives, and form them in all that our essence provided. We sought whole nations and corrupted them, remade them in the way that we saw fit to the production of a kingdom. OUR KINGDOM! And _this_," she brandished about the room, admiring lovingly the heavy vegetation with mad, glinting eyes filled with passion, "is my kingdom! And these," she sighed seductively, brandishing with her arms in a set of motions as she sent out the right pheromone signals, "are my denizens." The thick vines suddenly dropped down hard from the dark ceiling, the bodies of her publically broadcast murders still hanging by noose. She brushed her hands down their legs, kissing their knees lightly where they hung. "What do you have to your name, I wonder?" She gazed at him darkly, a twisted smile upon her poisonous lips. "Name yourself. Don't be afraid. You know me as "Cambier", yes? What do I know you as? Are you Woodrue, then, is that it? Did you choose Woodrue for yourself, is that why you come to me in this form?"

Woodrue shook his head, suddenly looking annoyed. "Why would I choose to exist in this useless armor, I ask you?"

"Then reveal yourself to me," Ivy whispered, twirling her red hair in hand in a most seductive manner. It was inviting, it truly was, to have a demon in her midst. One of her own kind. When she had taken control of this body, this shell that had once belonged to Pamela Isley before her death, she had thought herself the only demon brave enough to still make this kind of claim. But now another demon had come, thriving in the appearance of Woodrue… murderer and murderess together. They had both killed each other. It was poetry. "Reveal yourself to me. I've chosen what I am, who I am! You do the same!"

Woodrue stared, suddenly very taken with her high demands. A smile lashed back across his face, as his face darkened, his sigh of disbelief turning to a sigh of high regard.

"You know me, brother…"

"Sister, if you must call me by a sibling title. I am sister."

"As you were to Freeze?" Woodrue asked with a sinister smirk. Ivy rubbed herself in passion of the thought of the murder of Freeze's guards.

"That lie brought on a romance you couldn't even imagine," she sighed, dreamily picturing the struggling guard as she had held him place, poisoning him on the spot in the most horrible, painful way possible. For Cambier the demon truly had chosen what he-it-was going to be. Poison Incarnate.

"Of course it did," Woodrue gasped, gazing at her hungrily. Whatever demon wore his image, it was lusting for Cambier's chosen form. The other demons had always enjoyed it when Cambier took on the life of a human female, for the humans were they who the demons desired most to corrupt. And corruption sometimes came with special procedures.

The demon grabbed his head in hand, a twisted hand decorating his face. He twisted the head, and Ivy heard bones crack loudly. Ivy smiled, satisfied by the gruesome noise.

"Take it off," she demanded, laying lightly back against the back of the flower once more as she watched, a soft expression upon her face, her hand gently rubbing her leg in a most arousing way.

Woodrue pulled up, and his head came free of his shoulder, tearing away in a sickening display of muscle torn by raw redness. The moment the head was removed from the torso, intense green flames sprung up around it, and Ivy jumped only slightly surprised by the sudden eruption of fire. Black ash flew everywhere as the head vanished into nothingness, burned away by its intensity. In place of Woodrue's head as another, as if Woodrue's head had been a mere mask. Of course, it had been. This was not Woodrue's true body. His true body was still South America, probably damaged beyond the point of usage even for a demon of great power.

The head that wore the rest of Woodrue's mangled body was inhuman, to be sure. Skin as black as tar, the face heavily deformed as it swelled in several places, and eyes so black and lightless, a row of razor fangs lining the mouth within. His long, black hair was tied into a ponytail, and when he breathed, a cloud of black smoke trailed from him, his very breath deadly to inhale.

"Ah, yes… now I _do_ recognize you," Cambier said. She reached out to him, her hands longing for his own. "_Attuck_…"

Attuck the demon chuckled, and when he spoke, he spoke in a voice that highly suggested his windpipe had been crushed. "_Cambier…"_

"You're as beautiful as I remember you," she sighed, as he placed his own hands firmly against his chest. Green flames burned in a dazzling display of brilliant color, and Ivy watched in wild fascination, her eyes wide in her mad expression, as the fire burned away that which shrouded the demon Attuck. His entire form carried on the blackness that had named him, his back oddly bent forward into a hunch and hump, with razor-like spines sticking out of him, his hands taloned, a long, swishing tail swinging to and fro behind him.

The demon climbed forward. Ivy noted his crotch. Where a regular man's testicles and erection would have been, there was instead a mass of writhing black tentacles, wiggling about and seeking that which they may defile. She felt an intense rush of heat go through her body as she gazed at them, and when he lay on top of her, she practically clawed at the demon's chest.

_In_, she demanded in her mind, her smile and green eyes sending out her message. Attuck the demon, his breath caught raggedy, obliged, and such was the passion and pleasure that aroused her when those tendrils dug into her body, allowing the two demons to consummate into one evil, unholy flesh. The way they moved inside, seemingly stretching out through her entire body, like worms or snakes burrowing into the warmth of the Earth. Camber, or Poison, held her brother in place, her poisonous lips forced against his own he pulled her head in. She released a highly deadly dose of her poison, enough to kill twenty men, but Attuck the demon did not retch, nor react violently. He welcomed it into his system, thriving on its bitterness, forcing her head forward as he longed to drink his fill of her highly potent toxins.

Her legs were wrapped around him tightly, her nails clawing viciously his back, so hard that she produced black blood, that which dribbled down the sides as they indulged within each other, the corpses that hung from the vines overhead still dangling freely inches above. Cambier and Attuck… brothers? Brother and sister? Even she was unclear of that nature, but the demon did not care. The unholier that this act could be, the more it thrived on the situation. Because long ago, when they had been cast away, they had made a promise to defy the Law and all that it stood for. They could never have accepted loving Him, and following Him despite His goodness and despite all that He had given to them… because the Perfect Child had told them that they had been meant for more. The Perfect Child, who had been His favorite, some had said, had been given a great name, a great power, and the Perfect Child had longed to show that they could overcome Him, that they could oust Him and become gods of their own…

But with all foolishness comes a price. God, in all His perfection, in all His wonder, had punished the rebels who had foolishly thought they could oust Him from His throne… children, once loved, now fell from Heaven, hated and scorned for their betrayal… for their evill… and thus all desire to follow the Law had been lost. Sin had become their very nature, their very desire. To do evil had been a joy, and the Perfect Child, renamed Satan to fit with his crime, had insisted that they continue such open rebellion, to infect and destroy God's children, for if they had been cast down, so too would the children that God had created would suffer…

And so the demons had continued their foolish, evil crusade. They had chosen bodies and lives, tricking God's children into worshipping them as idols. Zeus was nothing more than an alias of Attuck, the demon who had fallen into such physical lusts that even his fallen brothers had not been free of his advances… the corruption that these fallen devils had brought upon the Earth was noteworthy to that which they loved: to live in depravity.

For they knew the punishment that awaited them, in a writhing Lake of Fire at the end of days… and the demons knew that they had already lost. God was calling children home, and the demons would be left to thrive in their self-made destruction forever. Their defiance was one last attempt to stay true to the depravity that they had created. Sore losers and all that, of course.

"I love you," Attuck hissed, as his fangs nibbled lightly against her neck.

Poison Ivy, Cambier, a demon of lust and of idolization's most wretched form, stroked his hair in return. "The world is on the verge of burning, Attuck. And you've come to visit me… to have me… in celebration?"

"Yes," Attuck gasped, as he began to move his body in vertical motions, their love-making intensifying by the second. Ivy was practically strangling his sides as her legs compressed ever more tightly, losing all sense of place as she caught into stone within the passion. "I had to have you… I had to show you that I'm with you… that I'm so _proud_ of you! Satan, he corrupts them, tricks them into disobeying _Him_, but you… you're going to physically destroy them! It's so beautiful!"

"I know!" she gasped, her eyes closed in intense, passionate pain. The tentacles were electrifying her from within, sending violent shockwaves through her nervous system, a sensation of utter fire but one that she dearly welcomed. "I've done so much! SO MUCH! Eden will be reborn, Attuck! And Poison shall be Queen of the new utopia! I can smell it, Attuck, can feel it, can see it! It's all going to be mine and so much more! So…much…more…"

"And F-Freeze?"

"Freeze? Oh…oh, don't even-even think for a moment that I'm going to let him live. I'm manipulating him, Attuck. Using him. Once he's frozen all of mankind, my children will burst free and overtake the planet… and Freeze, along with Bane, will be the first of the sacrifices in my perfect kingdom…"

"I love you!" Attuck screamed, rather insanely, practically biting at her lower lips as he drank deeply from the poison vats inside. "Kill them all, Poison! Kill them all!"

"I'm…goimg…to…!"

A sudden, loud knocking upon the distant door. Ivy gasped, in a mixture of perfectly timed climax and surprise. Attuck her brother stopped moving at once, and the two of them, horribly fatigued in their breathing and utter shambleness, looked around weakly, Ivy unable to move. Another sudden knock upon the door, followed at once by Freeze's loud voice.

"Permission to enter?" His dark voice sounded off intensely. It sounded filled with dread and anticipation. Ivy looked at Attuck, most longingly, but Attuck shook his head, pressing a clawed finger against her lips. She sucked upon the end of it with teary eyes.

"I leave now. You have work to do, sister. Kill all of the Gotham, and then destroy this world. When dead are the children who walk this Earth, then I will return to you. And together… together we will remake this world into our Kingdom!"

"Yes," Ivy breathed raggedly, pushing him away at once. "I desperately hope this won't be the last time we join together…" She winked, looking deeply contented, and her brother nodded.

"I am obsessed with you, Cambier."

"Poison," she reminded him.

"Poison," he corrected himself. "Kill the humans of this world, Poison, my love. I have come to you as an Incubus… in turn, I intend to live as a king of this realm, alongside the Madre de Verde, goddess Succubus…"

"You call me goddess… I love that word."

Another irritable knocking upon the door, and Ivy gave the distant framework a truly disgusted look. Attuck the demon, who thrived upon the incestual thoughts of Cambier, bowed his head, and within the next second, the demon had vanished into a great burst of blackness, sinking away into the mass of shadows that overtook the room, nothingness becoming everything. Ivy lay where she had been pinned down, breathing heavily. Her entire body felt sore, the passion that the two demons had displayed for each other overbearing beyond the ability of any human she had taken advantage of during her time here. She could still feel his fire burning inside of her. Burning as new passionate thoughts overwhelmed her. No more haunting faces in the dark of her mind, whispering to her as they demanded to know why she had killed them.

Now, Attuck had made it all so very clear. It was because she was to be ruler of the New World, that her love for poison had written this destiny for her. She realized now the truth that she had destined to prevent herself from realizing. She had thought Pamela Isley to be a mere corpse, a memory that had tried to haunt her and encourage her that she was not who she was. Now, the truth of the matter revealed itself at hand. She _was_ Pamela Isley, as she was Poison Ivy, as she was Poison, and as she was Cambier. Four different identities, all mixed together in a massive, toxic vat of essence, burning where each was needed. She was Pamela Isley, because of the woman's obsession was plants and poisons… she was Poison Ivy, because she was the true protector of Mother Nature and her children… she was Poison, because making the realization of Isley's obsessions made her identity breath life and vileness that she needed in order to live to the name of Cambier, who was at the core of all of this, who she now knew that she could never escape. She, Cambier, had chosen to become Pamela, Ivy, and Poison, a Poisonous Pamela Ivy, so to speak. Now the demon knew that it was foolish to run from these truths, and that it was all within wisdom to acknowledge just who and what she was, and what she would be. Queen of the New Eden, alongside her King, her Attuck.

"Enter!" Cambier called out, ready to face the false human once more.

Freeze forced the door open and hurried in angrily, fully armored and emitting chilling vapors of ice on his own. When he saw that Ivy sat in fully nudeness, he averted his eyes. Only his wife deserved such an observance. Behind Freeze came several of his goons, all wearing fur, silver coats, holding knives in their hands, and lastly came Bane, the titan carrying into the chamber the massive searchlight that they had stolen from police headquarters.

"It is time, Ivy," Freeze told her, still focusing intently in the other direction, while his goons stared open mouthed at her, whispering to each other and making obscene gestures at her. Fire still burned within. She wondered just what she could get her plants to do to them…

"Time?" she asked, silently willing for the vines that grew about the place to come to her. They rose from the shadows, or else descended down to her, longing for her touch… for her control… and silently did she send out the right pheromones, focusing intently on the mental connection she had with them…

"Yes. Mr. Bane here had just finished the final product. Show her!" he called back to Bane, who grunted loudly, walking forward with the light in hand as she came to a rest beside the throne, careful not to trip into the small lagoon that she had produced before the throne, filled with water and decorated with massive lily pads. Ivy gazed thoughtfully at the light. It was in fine condition, the metal well-polished and shined to glinting perfection. No longer did the massive light bear the insignia of the Dark Knight… the bat had been replaced with a metal cutting of Robin's insignia, bird-like and thin-boned… as well, the glass had been painted with a light coating of red glaze. She could already see the crimson signal burning in the sky, summoning the young Robin to his death… it was delicious.

"Well done," she praised, rubbing the searchlight fondly with her foot. "He'll be drawn to it like the fly that he is. I'm looking forward to killing him. So _very_ much looking forward to kill him…."

She grinned up at Freeze, who looked sick. And to his henchmen, who were still making highly inappropriate gestures at her, wagging their tongues in most animalistic fashions. They did not see the vines slowly descending from behind them, hissing softly as they reached down for the five goons' throats…

"So, then, the end has come?"

"Yes, I believe it has. We march now, Ivy. We march for the Observatory."

"And I'll be waiting, all snuggled up, warm and toasty, back here when you've finished freezing Gotham. We'll have a party to celebrate. And Batman and Robin… will both be waiting for you here, displayed along with the rest of my trophies." She slapped the sides of the corpses hanging around her pointedly. Freeze frowned, looking troubled, but he spoke nothing aloud.

"I beat," he said.

The sudden screams of his men behind him caught his attention, and he spun around, just in time to see his five goons, thick vines wrapped tightly around their throats, being pulled up into the darkness, dragged through thick brush and vegetation. Ivy laughed wildly, clapping her hands together as Freeze jumped at the darkness above, reaching for them, calling out their names.

"Donno! Philip! Frosty! Where are you!?"

Only their screams came in reply, as the thick brush above began to shake violently. Freeze looked crazily around, silently pleading with Ivy, but Ivy, ever calm, ever evil, smiled seductively as she waved her fingers in farewell.

"It's a jungle in here," she told him.

Suddenly, liquid began to pour down from the darkness above. Freeze watched in horror as blood began to flow down like thin waterfalls, spaced a few feet from each other, five pouring of life liquid cascading down onto the floor, making thick puddles as whatever had taken the five goons drained its victims and released their interiors onto the floor. Freeze backed away quickly, turning on his heel, and giving Ivy one last, horrified look, he barreled from the room. Ivy grinned. She had a power over him. The power of fear.

"Bane, he's waiting," she told the titan, who watched himself in terror as the blood pouring down from the ceiling. "You'd better hurry, now. And have fun with Freeze…"

The titan sighed. He stretched out his arms and hoisted the signal into the air, and then he began to walk down the way, careful to double around the flowing blood so as not to be stained. When he reached the door where Freeze had exited, he turned, and gave her one last look.

"I…hate you…"

And those, of course, were the last words that Antonio Diego ever said to Cambier the demon. Ivy could only watch, in silence and amazement, as the massive monster followed Freeze's trail. As she watched him leave, she felt a sudden, unexplainable sensation in her black heart: that she was never going to see Bane again.

"Good riddance," she giggled, as the freshly bloodied vines that had slaughtered her ogglers descended now, and she embraced their bloody forms with a mother's love. "Good riddance to all…"

She had no idea that God's judgment was fixing to pour down upon her.

**Jude 1:6 - And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. **


	24. Turkish Brawls

The mood was set. A thin haze of blue and pink hovered in the air, and the sweet smell of Ivy's natural pheromones, their odor unable to resist, permeated the atmosphere rather pointedly. She could see the crimson light burning from where she sat upon her floral throne, summoning him… summoning him to his murder…

No nudity. Not yet. When a corpse was he, she would take him and the things she would do with him… words could not describe. But for now, playing the coolness of the matter, needing. Black leather bound her legs, with long, heeled leather boots of the same color. A red blouse adorned her torso, sleeves long and fleece-like. Her hair she had twisted into a twirls worthy of the stereotypical vision of the Devil, curled to a crown-like perfection. Around her wrists, a cuff of black needles. Tipped with her poison. She looked odd, to say the least. But she knew he would crave her for her modesty. Modesty, after all, was far sexier than revealing anything.

Her plant had closed around her, that Venus of a throne chair, cooling her, emitting highly deadly fumes into her face as she inhaled their poisonous matter. No humans here. None at all. She was waiting for him. The anticipation was deadly.

_Come to me, little Robin… come to me…_

These minutes seemed like the longest she had ever waited, but she knew she would have to persist nonetheless. Murder was essential. Tonight.

"I wonder just how long he'll keep me," she wondered aloud, twirling her hair in finger. A vine shot out through the openings within the folded plant and came to rest beside her, brushing against her leg, just to feel her… just to know that she was there… She stroked it lovingly. "I'm here, baby. I'm here. Shush, now… he'll be here soon…"

A loud humming sound. She suddenly looked up, eager, a grin spreading across her face. The sound of something like a motorcycle! Could it be…? Her heart had begun to pound hard, doing a form of dance on the inside that captivated her senses and made her feel sugary. He was coming for her! She began to whisper to her plants, beckoning them to leave her be, and they slid away into the darkness at her command, as she issued unto them her love and adoration. When dead Robin was, and Ivy had finished her consummation with the body, she would allow her children to feast upon his remains. She would join them. His blood would be for the benefit of all. She had to display the most unholy inhumanity that she could muster tonight. It made her feel beautiful.

Alone did she sit in the darkness of the great form, fantasizing about everything that was fixing to happen. She could already feel herself lubricating from the thought, but knew that she had to wait. Laughter in the distance… laughter like that from children. Her children. Robin had entered the trap. Even now, the children that she loved so much would be entwining about the entrance way, sealing him off. Not that he was going to have a chance to try and escape, anyway. He would not be able to resist her.

She heard the vines leading into the main part of the chamber sliding back. Grinned in a most malevolent way. She placed a hand beside her head, smiling anticipatingly, preparing herself for him. With her mental connection, she urged for the flowers that grew above their heads to fall down to their "goddess", and as the flower that held her within burst open at her command, so too did the flowers above rain down. She saw him freeze in place, staring at her with his mouth open across the lilypad way, and then the vines behind him snapped closed and he jerked around, surprised by their sudden movement, before, his breath ragged, he turned to face her once more, his eyes wide.

"Hi, there," she coeed at him, her bright red lips seemingly bursting with fiery poison in her anticipation as she gazed seductively at him.

He began to make his way forward, carefully stepping onto the lilypads that supported upon the water, looking intently about as he mused, "Is your thumb the only part of you that's green?"

She smirked. _What a question, bait, what a question. Come to Death._ "You'll just have," she issued in a most arousing voice, emitting her pheromones in a most subtle fashion through her cheek pores, "to find out." She winked at him as she said it, hoping to drive him into a sexual frenzy before he even reached her.

"I want us to be together," he sighed, sounding as if he were fighting some intense, interior battle that was forcing him into a rageful submission of fruits and soil. "But I need to know you're serious about turning over a new leaf. I need a sign." He fell down onto the flower beside her, strew across her waist, and gazed intently in her eyes. His lips were so close. She gazed at them for a moment, shaking inside as she prepared herself for the kill. In the distance, behind him, vines were reaching out from dark corners and she could hear them laughing, snickering, knowing the hidden joke of murder. _Kill him, mommy! Kill him now!_

Ivy decided to play with him for just a few seconds longer. Her body would not be able to withstand murdering him for much longer. It was making her heat for too intense. She had to kill, and she had to kill now! "How about slippery when wet?" she offered, in a soft, whisper of a passionate voice.

"Of trust," he stressed. "Tell me your plan."

She grinned. She had known that this might potentially pop up. _Just kill him already_, her mind urged her. She smiled, leaning in. "Kiss me and I'll tell you…"

His face was shaking. He looked scared. Scared, and unable to control himself for much longer. Her pheromones were swimming about his head, intoxicating him in a most subtle fashion. He was going to break… any second now, he was going to break… "Tell me and I'll k-kiss you," he stammered, his breathing getting ragged.

Ivy raised her eyebrows, though still kept a firm face of content. She had him. And why not? What harm would it do? He was utterly hers…

"Freeze," she said, "has turned the new telescope into a freezing gun. He's about to turn Gotham into an ice cube." And as she said the words, her mind reeled at once to the frozen corpses that would litter Gotham after tonight was over. _Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!_

Robin's face contracted, a troubled look coming over him. He looked around urgently. "I gotta stop him!"

_No!_

"Wait," she plead, grabbing his face and turning him to face her. She gazed intently into his eyes, pleading for his body, emitting the most powerful of pheromones she could from her face. From her legs. From her lips. She could practically feel the poison bubbling inside, like a vicious vat of acid that carnivorously desired food. Now! "One kiss, my love…for luck."

She had him. She saw his heart break, knowing that he simply had to give in. His lips quivered madly as he reached in, giving in to her at long, long, long last. She pulled him forward, and Robin's lips met her own with a most beautiful joining. She screamed, so very loudly inside of her mind as the two of them kissed passionately. Her heart broke with intense desire, willing the poison within her to release itself into him, to cripple him, to kill him. It was the warmest moment, a time of joining that told her that she had won, that triumph had been her name and that no one could ever have said his life! It was poetry… romance… _kill, kill, kill! Yes! Oh, yes, he's mine, at last! I did it!_

She pulled away from him triumphantly, watching eagerly for his death.

"Bad luck, I'm afraid," she giggled, her eyes mad as she gazed lovingly at her latest victim. "Time to die, little Robin!"

And so it was, in that moment, that Robin would surely d-

He stayed firmly in place.

And she stayed firmly in place.

He started blankly at her.

She stared blankly at him.

He did not fall over dead, choking on her poison.

She did not fall over dead, from the stress of the wait.

_Tick tock goes the clock_  
_ We laughed at fate and mourned her_  
_ Tick tock goes the clock_  
_ Even for Mother Nature… _

He… he still lived… still sat there, staring at her. Her heart began to race… _what?_

"I hate to disappoint you," he said, calmly, in a most serious tone, "but…" And with a most ornery look upon his face, he reached for his own lips and pulled at something that she, with absolute horror, had not realized. Something absolutely terrible, something utterly repulsing… a strip. A small strip, but a foreboding strip nonetheless. A broken promise. A defiance…

He tore a strip from his lips. It looked like… film… a terrible form of film. Plastic…? No… rubber! He was tearing what looked like _rubber_ from his lips. Realization stabbed into her as she considered the scene that was unfolding before her eyes. _No…_

"Rubber lips are immune to your charms," he said soothingly to her.

Just as he said it, she heard the soft hum outside, followed almost at once by the soft screaming of her children. _NO!_ He was here…

Desperation getting the better of her, she quickly threw out her arms, and Robin, caught by surprise, went flying backwards, toppling into the lily pool behind him. She jumped to her feet, suddenly very terrified… more terrified than she had ever been in her entire life… this was not happening… how dare he! _HOW FOCKING DARE HE!? _

"See ya!" she hissed, knowing that inside of that pool were vines which would hold him down and drown him. She would miss it, of course, because she had to leave, now! Even as he began struggling, the mutant vines wrapping around his arms and legs and dragging him below, she began to make her way for the exit-way. That was when the dark shadow loomed. She gasped, stopping in place as Batman, the Dark Knight in full anticipation to put an end to the madness once and for all, stepped out of the thick brush, having descended down from the roof when she had not been looking.

"Evening, Venus."

"Sorry," she scathed, raising her arms at once and seeking mental help for the vines that hung above his head, descending down even now to protect their mother, and she said it in a most malicious voice. "My vines have a crush on you."

She directed her hands and the vines shot out at once, and pleasurable did she watch as, wrapping around the Dark Knight's feet, the vigilante was scooped into the air, a look of total shock overwhelming his face as he was pulled upward, towards the darkness, to suffer the same fate that had earlier befallen Freeze's thugs… oh his blood was coming! Coming! She could feel it already, dripping all over her, could taste it so sweetly in her mouth… _Kill him, babies, torment him! _She laughed, all too madly, all too intensely, and said, with a rather aroused smile upon her face at its thought, "Sorry, gotta go. So many people to kill… and so little time."

She began to walk away, furious and set upon making it to the limo. She was going to win this day! _She_ was! She was almost to the exit door….

_CRASH!_

She jumped in place, frantically staring up. A window, high at the top part of the chamber, suddenly shattered, glass particles flying everywhere as it did. A flood of pink light burst through the window, and she watched, in horror, her heart jumping several paces, as someone new suddenly found their way into the air above her head. Whoever it was, they wore a dark black about them, flying through the air in a most formidable way, arms spread out as they dropped down before Ivy. Ivy stared, disbelieving, as the person straightened up, glass still raining around the person as they got into a combative stance, fists raised and ready.

And to Ivy's shock, she saw that it was a woman. A woman that she had never seen before. The woman wore a black rubber suit as well as a facemask that was all too recognizable as being a part of Batman's common wardrobe. But she had long, flowing, wild blonde hair, and when she looked at Ivy, a seething rage of fire seemingly jumping off of her, there was only intense bitterness. Ivy had no idea who this woman was.

"You're about to become compost!" the woman promised, and Ivy moved quickly, throwing out a kick towards this unexpected newcomer. The Batwoman, if she could be called that, ducked at once, rolling forward as Ivy spun about again, her foot crashing into a nearby flower vase. As the glass shattered, and the flowers within fell, she heard her children scream again, in a most horrible fashion. _NO!_ A most intense hatred rose inside of her, and she turned to face this Batwoman with as much fire as she could muster. She was going to _kill_ this bitch!

But Batwoman, moving quickly as an expert trained in high self-defense, quickly crouched into position and swept her foot forward. Ivy was caught by the sweep and she suddenly felt herself twisting upwards, and in the next second, she hit the floor hard, gazing up at the ceiling, her head pounding as she tried to take in what had just happened. Batwoman stared down at her, her eyes blazing with a fury that matched Ivy's.

"Using feminine wiles to get what you want. Trading on your looks. Exploiting men's weakness for sex." As the woman accused her, Ivy smiled viciously, adoring the compliments. These accusations only reminded her of the effect and nature that she had had over these worthless mammals. They had longed for her, begged for her. And she had killed them, poisoned them with the most intense satisfaction. "Read a book, sister. That passive- aggressive crap went out in the seventies. Chicks like you give women a bad name!"

She moved forward, attempting to land a strike of her foot into Ivy's temple, and Madre de Verde moved quickly, rolling to the left, seeing an opportunity. One of her Terrorvines were nestled nearby, writhing about and watching her battle with the Batwoman intently. Savagely, laughing maniacally inside as she relished the murder she was about to commit upon her own child, her hand groped around the thorny vine at once, and she ripped it free, savoring its scream as she did. _Suffer for mommy's sake_, she willed it. She was more important than these plants. Because Attuck had been correct. She cared more for poison than she did for plants. As her child screamed, its mutated thorns injecting her hand with her own highly potent venom, she savored it, before she promptly lashed out at the Batwoman with the vines. The woman leapt back, dodging Ivy's strikes as Mother Nature threw all intense and haste to nick her. A single prod of these thorns was all that it took. Then the poison would enter the woman's system, and she would die… beautifully, she would die…

She could hear Robin struggling nearby, but her vines were doing their work well, continuously pulling him down into their drowning waters once more… his body floating about down there gave her a sudden inspiration for a sensual skinny-dipping session, but she would focus on that once this woman before her was dead. Batman, she saw out of the corner of her eye as she twisted about, swinging the vine at the woman while keeping a distance between the two, was still struggling as well. He was forcing his way down, as the vines attempted to crush him, entwining tightly around his torso, but she knew that he had no chance… no chance at all…

And then she charged in, but Batwoman suddenly jumped upward and her foot came down hard upon the vines, and Ivy lurched forward. She gazed into the woman's face, who, looking ruffled but unhindered, intently snapped, "You're finished!"

Her knee went upward, but Ivy, having no choice, released the vine and jumped backwards, just barely dodging the strike that had been aimed for her chest. The two of them stared each other down, silently daring the other to make a move…. Any move at all….

"As I told Lady Freeze when I pulled her plug," she hissed malevolently, smiling to herself as she thought of her murder of Nora Fries, "_this_ is a one-woman show!"

The Batwoman, shaking her head in a deep, resentful gaze, moved forward, but Ivy quickly produced something from her glove. The poisonous knife that had taken so many lives since its arrival in Gotham flashed as the blade shot out, and the Batwoman stared, suddenly tensing at it gleamed in Ivy's hand.

_And now, you will join those who met their own ends at the knife's point. They suffered, Bat-chica… they suffered extraordinarily well. And I enjoyed stabbing them. Enjoyed cutting and mutilating them. There's a lot of potential as far as your body is concerned, do you know that? I wonder just what I'll be able to do with someone like you…_ It was utter wickedness, and the wickedness, to her, was utter joy…

She stepped forward and sliced through the air. The Batwoman dodged her first strike, ducking low, and her fist shot outward. Ivy did not see the move coming, and suddenly, the knife went flying from her hand. Her heart stopped. The weapon, it seemed, was moving as if in slow motion. She gazed at it, horror transfixing as the Batwoman made a move. A foot suddenly collided with her stomach, and the air was knocked out of her. A fist collided against the side of her head, and her world shook, her brain throbbing horrifically as she took the blow. The Batwoman ran forward, and landed one final kick directly into his chest…

In that next moment, all that Ivy was aware of was air, as she flew backwards, slamming hard against the great Venus throne that she had lovingly caressed for so long, the black needles of her bracelets sinking into its form. She felt it shudder violently, heard its inner workings tumbling hard within. Fury like no other, a rage of pure fire… her mind snapped completely in that moment…

"CURSES!" she screamed. It was idiotic, to say the least, to proclaim such a ridiculous statement, but it was all that could come to mind, all that could be registered in the high amount of fury that overtook her, the heartbreak… the bitterness… and then her child mirrored that rage. The walls of the great Venus throne closed in at once, and her scream of rage was drowned out as the massive flower sealed her within, wounded by her needles to the point where even its own Mother was not safe from its hold…

She felt constricted, her hair catching at once as gallons of what felt like fecal goo began to pour onto her. Pain unimaginable! She screamed, for its feel was acidic, stinging and burning into her very skin as vines shot out from pores within the beast's maw and promptly wrapped her arms in place, forcing her down as the acid-like substance dribbled onto her. Such intense darkness and pain… she was screaming so loud, screaming so horrifically, begging them to free her…. Begging for them to kill her…

She did not last long. Blackness overtook her before long…


	25. Revenge is Cold (The Final Chapter)

_How could this have happened?_

"Yes, this is O'Mara. Gordon's here with me. You're not going to believe this… Poison Ivy has just been taken into custody."

"She's what!?" the voice on the other end of the walkie-talkie almost screamed, a static noise of intense joy rupturing the sound waves. "You're serious!?"

_How could I have failed!? _

"Yes, we're currently transporting-aagh!"

And then nothingness, as the city had been swept into ice by Freeze's telescope-gun. But those had been old memories. She had awaken, awaken from a deep, dark, haunted sleep when she had never thought it possible to awaken again. How many hours had passed now, since the police had burst into the Gardens, and taken her into custody? Since she, along with the rest of Gotham City, had been frozen into place, buried beneath a shroud of ice that she had thought to become tomb…?

The cell around her was dark. As she lay upon the dirty bed, shrouded in prison garb, her hair horribly matted in a frenzy-like fashion, she felt weaker than she ever had. Her body was physically strained beyond the ability to function properly, her mind broken into several pieces… what were the shards to do, now that they had been separated? It was a nightmare of a state. She still bore the scars caused from her very own plant's attack. She had angered her child… the Batwoman had forced her to bring harm unto the poor baby… had the police not arrived when they had, and filled the massive creature with bullet holes… in a way, Ivy owed the Batmen and woman her life: they had alerted the police to her hideout, just moments before Robin had first walked into the place. He, along with the other two mammals, had vanished before their arrival… she had failed…

Her heart physically strained. Acknowledging this failure was the most horrible thing: an emptiness… a heartbreak…

_What was I thinking? The methods were weak, and undeserving…_

The cell was awfully cold. Terribly cold. A frigid existence, and she cried softly in bed, clawing at the fabric that made up the lay-about. The night screamed at her, the darkness compressing. In this place, she felt not the love and worship of her children. Only cold, reinforced steel, frigid air, and the most _hateful_ of glances… how many guards and policemen alike had harassed her as she was transported into Arkham, screaming obscenities and death threats and promises of rape, among other horrific propositions. It stained her. Stained her more than she could ever imagine.

_A horrible existence…_

She was utterly alone, mentally and physically.

_The Devil's come to collect his due…_

She was going insane…. Going insane… insane…. Insane… insane… insane.. insane…. Insane… insane… insan…

_Claws in the dark, they want to rip me open, spill my guts and drink blood… blood…_

The atmosphere was physically created by the presence of the being, Pressure. Her head was being forced down a giant tube, strangling her breath…

_He never focking loved me… never focking loved me… he hates me… hates me…_

Freeze's face kept swimming in her mind, and she imagined how he must feel, right now. His wife dead… and the Batman, along with his pets, had completely put a stop to it all. Poor Nora Fries could never be avenged…

_But he does love me… he does…_

Bane… Bane's face swam more clearly about her head, maskless and beautiful in his intense mutation. They both swelled with Venom, both of them a writhing vat of toxins and power… and she had loved him… he had loved her… she had hated him… and he had hated her… no, loved… not hated… he had hated… never loved…

The yellow flower was concealed. But she had to know. She had to ask Mother Nature. Her birth canal had hidden many secrets during her time. Only vaguely now did the murder of the eyeglass insulter come to mind. He no longer mattered. What mattered was the tiny relief, that small comfort concealed within. The yellow flower that she had hidden inside of herself, just before the police had fetched her from the Venus… a little bit of hope, her child with her…

When she removed it, she stared at it, desiring it more than anything else. It was a part of her. A true part of her. She sat up in her bed, dreamily staring off into the great black corner of the room in the distance, imagining Bane stepping out of those shadows and coming to take her… but she knew that that could never happen. Bane was dead. The prison warden, Sharp, had informed her of that… crushed, beneath the flaming remains of Freeze's telescopic freezing gun…

_NO! NO, HE'S ALIVE! I CAN KEEP HIM ALIVE! I HAVE TO! I HAVE TO!_

"He loves me," she whispered to the flower, lightly picking off one petal. She could hear it scream. It had been suffering for some time now, since she had first picked it, and its pain gave her the smallest bit of pleasure… _suffer, baby… suffer for mommy…_ "He loves me not," Ivy continued, pulling off another petal. It screamed even louder in her head, and she could only smile softly, more inclined to torture it… "He loves me…" As she said it, Bane's face constantly swum in her mind. She had to know. Bane had to love her… Bane just _had_ to… "He loves me not…" She was becoming more desperate. The petals were running out. "He loves me…" With a sigh, she placed the picked petal in her mouth, tasting the bitterness of it, longing for that sweet ingestion of toxin… her hand began to reach for the final petal-

"Not!"

She jumped in place, her heart pumping hard, her blood freezing. The booming, dark voice had come from the shadows across the way. She stared, frozen in place, her eyes wide as she longed to see the terror that was in the cell with her. A burst of intense blue light lit up in the shadows, and her heart broke… There was a man standing there. A man who looked on at her, across the way, with the most intense look of hatred upon his face…

_Him…_

"Surprise," Victor Fries announced, holding out his arms. "I'm your new cell mate."

She shook in place… her mind snapped in two… inside, she was screaming. Screaming incredibly loud, incredibly horrifically… he was moving forward, and with him came the most intense chill, and the most nerve biting horror of a movement… it stung her, so very dearly. "And I've come to make your life a living Hell," he promised her, coming closer and closer, until she sat so close before him that not only had the world become a horrific refrigeration of an existence, but she was almost blinded by the intense glowing blue of his armor. "Prepare for a bitter harvest…" He leaned forward, smiling an insane, horrific smile. "Winter has come at last."

His fist struck forward and sunk into her chest. She yelped loudly, the impact of it forcing her hard against the wall, but he placed his mother hand over her mouth, and shook his head slowly, darkly…

"You know," he whispered, his eyes leering, "when I was up there, lying in the ruins of my greatest plan yet, crying to myself as I realized that I would never get to avenge my wife after the Batman had killed her… he came to me. Came to me, you know, and do you know what he said to me? He told me something _very_ interesting…" He was pushing against her face, rubbing the back of her head hard against the freezing concrete of the wall, and the pain was horrific, she was screaming into his right palm… but she had not the strength to combat his hold. "He told me that he was innocent in the matter of Nora's untimely death… he showed me a recording. A recording of you, no less… shall I recite your famous words, Miss Ivy. Here we go…" And he cleared his throat loudly. "'_As I told Lady Freeze when I pulled her plug, this is a one-woman show_…"

And he brought back a hand, and with as much intensity as he could muster, brought his palm like a fierce meteor against her cheek. The massive force of his strike sent her flying, screaming in pain, tears flying as she went from the bed and crumpled onto the floor. She desperately looked towards the cell door, screaming, crying horrifically for help. "HELP ME! HELP ME, PLEASE!"

There were two guards at the other end of the hall just outside of her cell, but came, they did not. Indeed, had she been able to stand, and peer down the way, she would only have seen them smirking, dark, triumphant looks upon their faces, fingering the couple of diamonds in their pockets that Freeze had bribed them with…

And of course, one of these guards had recently lost his brother. A man with an eye-patch, who had overseen Freeze…. a man who had been horrifically killed by an intensely poisonous kiss…

"But justice is at hand, tramp," Freeze whispered once more, staring down at the shaking, grief-stricken Ivy who stared back at him with the most intense fear, awaiting her death. "She lives. The Batman found and restored her. And not only that, but she is being moved to Arkham, so that I can continue my work… Nora Fries lives, Ivy. Isn't that just…wonderful?"

_NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! I KILLED HER! I KILLED THAT USELESS, WORTHLESS BITCH! I DESTROYED HER, MANGLED HER, SUFFOCATED HER! SHE'S DEAD, DEAD, DEAD! SHE CAN'T BE ALIVE, CAN'T BE… NO! NO!_

"I can see that this news bring you into despair," he told her, a malicious grin upon his face. "That is comforting…" He now crouched down before her. Gripped her by the front of the shirt and jerked her forward, his frozen breath actually icing over her cheeks… pain unimaginable… "You will regret what you did, Miss Ivy. My wife… my _men_… everyone in Gotham wants your blood… and I get it all to myself. Don't think that you will die tonight. Do not think for a moment that you will die tomorrow. In fact, do NOT count on dying any time soon. I intend to torment you, each and every day, for the rest of your miserable life. Does that sound fair? Killing you now would only allow you an escape, and I do not want a murder charge thrown onto my head. No… your pain shall come slowly… so…" He gripped her by the cheeks, squeezing. "…very…" He twisted her head up. "_slowly…"_ And he forced her backwards, sending her sliding across the room, right for the cell door.

Poison Ivy only had one thought, before the back of her head hit the solid steel and unconsciousness took her.

_Help…me_…

And no help ever came.

A letter. A letter arrived within the day. A letter, undefiled by Arkham staff…

_ Dear Poison Ivy,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well. I can't tell you how difficult it was, getting the proper names to ensure that this reaches you safely. I had to bribe the right guys, and bribery doesn't always involve money, if you know what I mean. It is my dear hope that this letter reaches you unopened, but in the case that someone does peek, I will already have left Gotham City, and begun the Movement. _

_ I write to you now, Poison Ivy, to tell you this: I love you. I love you so very much. Quite psychologically speaking, I am obsessed with you. I've dyed my hair to match your red, it used to be blonde. I've also taken to wearing green contacts, as blue hardly seems fitting for your successor. Yes, that's right. I want you to know how much I admired your work. The day that truly got to me was when you displayed that so very beautiful video on GCN. The poisonings, the necrophilia, the ambitions, and the confidence… it's all so very arousing. I myself love nature, and I love chemistry. In fact, it's my major in college at the moment. _

_ Used to, when we were kids, we were asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Well, I have my answer at last: I want to be you, Poison Ivy. I'll take on your name for myself, and I will continue your work. The work of Mother Nature should never end. I will poison men in your name, and I will do my best to revive your studies into botany. I will strive to be a true successor. I've already killed people. My college professor, along with a few boys at my school… and I even strung their bodies up, just like you did on TV! Isn't that cool!? It was scary at first, but then, it started to become REALLY fun, lol. 3 _

_ I like, totally am going to become Poison Ivy, and I'm going to go on a massive killing spree, just like you. I've already dealt with my parents, as well, as they won't be able to interfere. I truly love you, and I truly admire you, Ivy. I hope that in time, I can come to live up to your unholy name. They may have your physical body locked away in Arkham, but your spirit shall live on inside of me. I am going to make you proud. I promise. I promise I will make you proud. I do, I promise. _

_ I promise. _

_ This letter will be short, but know that I shall be writing again. And soon. I am your dearest fan, your most adamant worshipper. You spoke to me in such a beautiful way, Poison Ivy. You have served us well… now, let me serve you. I will write again, sometime in the next month. I'll send some enclosed pictures of my new costume, too, I'm modeling it after you. Just know that I am here to carry on your name and legacy forever. And if I am blessed with a daughter, then she too will carry on your legacy. One day, the mammals of this Earth will be cleansed… and your paradise, your Eden, will be realized. _

_ I write this in love, my goddess,_

_ A.R. _

_ P.S. =) _

_**TO ALL OF MY FANS WHO HAVE ENJOYED THIS STORY: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT. I HAD FUN WRITING THIS RATHER MORBID TALE, AND ALL OF YOU WERE MY PRIMARY FOCUS, WANTING TO DELIVER AN AWESOME STORY. I HOPE TO WRITE MORE LIKE THIS IN THE FUTURE. OFFICIALLY, AS FAR AS I KNOW, THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER. THIS IS THE END. I WILL MOST LIKELY NOT WRITE ANYMORE ON THIS TALE. I THINK THIS IS JUST THE WAY IT HAS TO END. THANKS TO ALL WHO STOOD BESIDE ME, AND I HOPE YOU WILL LOOK INTO MY OTHER MORBID TALES, AND AS WELL, I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS ON WHAT TO WRITE NEXT! =D GOD BLESS YOU ALL, AND GIVE YOUR CREATIVE ABILITIES TO HIM! =) **_


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